Fangs For The Memories yb-1

by Kathy Love

  Sebastian leaned forward, his eyes intent. “What?”

  “It was just this guy.” She gave a slight laugh. “It was nothing. He was just odd-nothing scary or anything.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. Who would be around-watching them? Was this part of what Rhys was trying to forget? Was this part of what she’d forgotten? A tingle of uneasiness played over her skin.

  But Sebastian sagged back against the chair, looking relieved.

  “Is there something else I should know about?” Jane asked, again watching his reaction closely.

  “No.” He sat up again. “No. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for either of you to be out in the city right now. You’re new here. Rhys isn’t thinking clearly. I’d hate for you to end up in a bad part of the city or something.”

  She supposed his worries made sense. Although Rhys seemed to know his way around just fine. Another odd factor in his memory loss.

  “You seemed almost relieved that Rhys is still experiencing memory loss.” Why would Sebastian want Rhys to continue to believe he was someone else?

  “No,” Sebastian said immediately. “No. That isn’t it. But I–I didn’t want him to suddenly remember everything out on the streets. He could be confused and upset. I’d rather”- he sighed, looking shaken-“I’d rather he was here with me. So I can help him.”

  Jane eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then decided it was unfair not to believe Sebastian’s words. Rhys was his brother, after all. He had every right to want to be there for him.

  “I know you want to help him,” she said, reaching out to pat his hand. “So do I. That’s why I’ve decided to go ahead and call another doctor.” She pointed to the phone book. “I know you have a family doc-”

  “No!” Sebastian declared, reaching to snatch up the phone. “No,” he repeated more calmly when he saw Jane’s startled expression. “Dr.-No-is a very renowned physician. Rhys couldn’t possibly do any better than him.”

  “Dr. No?”

  “Yeah, he’s Asian.”

  She regarded him closely for a moment, trying to decide if he was serious. He looked back at her with sincere eyes and a stony set to his jaw.

  Finally she sighed. “I understand you want your doctor, a person you trust. But he hasn’t come to examine Rhys yet. That doesn’t seem very professional to me.”

  “Well, he is very busy. Because of how renowned he is. But I’ll call him again. Now.” Sebastian stood, waving the phone in determination. “Right now.”

  He headed to the kitchen, pausing to give the phone another resolute shake in the air, then closed the door behind him.

  She stared at the door, then turned back to her breakfast, taking a bite of her toast. Sebastian had to be up to something. No one had all the answers like he did, even if they were very weird answers.

  She finished her toast, and was taking a sip of tea, when Rhys walked into the room. His furrowed brow relaxed once he saw her-almost as if he was afraid she wouldn’t be there.

  Silly man.

  “Good morning.” She smiled.

  He smiled back, and again, she was struck by the sheer beauty of his features. Her heart skipped against her breastbone.

  “I was disappointed you weren’t in bed with me when I woke,” he said, sitting at the table across from her. “I had plans for you.”

  “You did?”

  He nodded, his smile widening. “I did promise to taste you all over, and I know I missed a few places.”

  She stared at the sexy curve of his lips, then looked up to his eyes. They sparkled with desire and a hint of amusement.

  Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing to her. Her skin tingled at every minute spot that those talented lips had touched.

  “You are very bad,” she told him, her eyes drifting back to his mouth, wondering exactly where he wanted to taste her now.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he agreed, the sound low and velvety.

  She shifted in her chair, then shifted again. Finally, she crossed her legs.

  “So what are you doing?” He reached over and pulled the thick phone book across the table toward him. His eyes skimmed over the columns of names before she could grab the book back and flip the pages closed.

  “A physician?” He frowned up at her. “Are you feeling unwell?”

  “No,” she said, but didn’t get to say anything more before Sebastian came back into the room, announcing as he entered, “I reached Dr. No. He’ll come tonight.”

  Rhys looked at his brother and then to Jane. Both of their shocked expressions made it clear that he was not intended to hear about the doctor’s visit.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Neither Jane nor Sebastian said anything for a moment. Then they spoke at the same time.

  “It’s-”

  “I-”

  They looked at each other, and both fell silent again.

  “Jane.” He reached out to grasp one of her hands. Her fingers were cold. “Is the doctor for you?”

  Her eyes held his. Then she slowly started to shake her head. “N-”

  “Yes,” Sebastian said abruptly. He stepped farther into the room. “Yes. Since-since you mentioned she might be pregnant, Jane decided that she should see a physician. Just in case.”

  “Then why didn’t you come to me?” Rhys asked her. Jealousy tightened his chest. Why would she go to Sebastian?

  Jane opened her mouth to say something, but Sebastian cut her off before she could utter a sound.

  “She didn’t want you to worry.”

  Rhys frowned at his brother. He was acting very strange. All agitated and-shifty.

  Something wasn’t right here.

  “Jane, do you mind if I talk to my brother alone for a moment?” Rhys asked.

  She narrowed her eyes at Sebastian, but then stood. “No, not at all.”

  Rhys squeezed her fingers gently before releasing them and watching her leave the room. Once the door was shut behind her, Rhys turned back to his brother.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  Sebastian tried to gather his wits and come up with a plausible story-quickly. He should have come up with a better lie, but his first thought had been that Jane was going to tell Rhys the truth. And he had to stop her. Rhys didn’t need to know that the «doctor» was for him. He was afraid Rhys might remember he was about two centuries past needing medical attention.

  “What do you mean?” Okay, he was definitely stalling. Stalling’s good.

  “Why did Jane come to you to help her find a physician?”

  “For the very reason I said. She didn’t want to worry you.”

  “Is there something I should be worried about?”

  Sebastian hesitated again. “She-she’s worried that she can’t have children.”

  Rhys stared at him. “Why?” he finally asked.

  “It runs in her family.”

  “Barrenness runs in her family?”

  Sebastian nodded. “Her moth-no-her sister is barren.”

  “She doesn’t have a sister.”

  Shit. “Oh, well, she must have said her mother’s sister was barren. Yeah, that was it.”

  Rhys studied him, his eyes full of skepticism. “What does she expect this doctor to tell her? It’s too soon to know if she’s with child or not.”

  “I think she just wants to make sure she is healthy. As healthy as she can be to carry your-babe.” Sebastian tried hard not to roll his eyes. Why was he doing this, again?

  Rhys considered that. “I suppose if it makes her feel more relaxed, then it can certainly do no harm.”

  Sebastian nodded, relieved that he seemed to be accepting the story. But, man, he was only keeping this shit up for a few more days. If Rhys got his memory back after that, and he was too stupid to realize he needed Jane, that he could find happiness with her, then that was his own problem. Sebastian was sick of making up these cockamamie stories. He had far better things to do.

  “Speaking of the
possibility that she is already with child…”

  Sebastian fought back a groan, knowing what was coming.

  “Did you arrange the special license?”

  “Yes. It’s in the works.”

  Rhys nodded. “And you will get the vicar to come here to perform the ceremony as soon as it is ready?”

  “Absolutely.” Right after he found someone to pretend to be Dr. No. And again, why was he doing this?

  The suspicion finally left Rhys’s face, and he actually smiled. “Good. Now, please excuse me while I go join my betrothed.”

  “By all means,” Sebastian said, then sneered at the closed door after his brother exited. Rhys better appreciate this once he got his memory back. It wasn’t every brother who’d create fictional doctors and materialize “special licenses” just to get the guy laid.

  Sebastian sighed. As Dickens wrote in A Christmas Carol, he was a martyr to his own generosity.

  *

  Jane paced around her room, wondering what Sebastian was telling Rhys. She could only imagine. And why on earth had he lied to Rhys and said the doctor was for her? As soon as he actually arrived, it wouldn’t take Rhys long to figure out that the doctor was examining him.

  Once again she wondered which one of the Young brothers was the crazy one.

  She sighed. It didn’t much matter how they got Rhys help, she supposed, as long as he did get it.

  Again her resolve was laced with reluctance. She wanted him to get his memory back; she just desperately hoped he still wanted her afterward. That he wouldn’t think she took advantage of the situation. That he wouldn’t think she was awful and pathetic.

  “You should have come to me,” Rhys said from behind her.

  She spun to look at him. He stood in the doorway, looking so tall and broad. And stern.

  “I…” She had no idea what to say. What had Sebastian told him?

  He pulled the door closed and strode into the room, stopping directly in front of her. “I’m to be your husband, not Sebastian. Your worries are my worries. Your problems are my problems. And we will work them out together.”

  She stared up at him, her heart thundering at the possession in his amber eyes. She didn’t understand most of what he meant. But she still loved the protectiveness of his words. The idea that he would be there with her-no matter how difficult things in her life got.

  “You won’t go to him again?”

  “No.” She wouldn’t. She hadn’t. She blinked. This was all so confusing.

  “You will only come to me?”

  She nodded.

  He kissed her then. The pressure of his mouth as possessive as his words had been. She submitted, loving the power there, and the yearning she tasted under all his dominance.

  He broke off the kiss, his chest rising and falling with his need. “And you will only come for me.”

  Her passion-addled mind couldn’t quite wrap around what he was telling her. Then he slid a hand under the fold of her robe and cupped her bare breast, his palm slightly rough and burning hot.

  She gasped, the sound more a hiss through her teeth.

  He leaned down, his breath caressing her skin and stirring her hair like a warm breeze. “Tell me, Janie. Tell me no one else will ever touch you like this. No one else will ever know what it’s like to be buried deep inside you.”

  Her breath hitched in her throat, and her heart threatened to hammer its way out of her chest. His demands were so thrilling, so arousing. And so, so easy for her to agree to.

  “No one,” she breathed, before she turned her head and captured his lips, kissing him with all the greed and hunger she felt for him, too.

  His one hand continued to hold her breast, while the other slipped around her back and pulled her tight against him. Her hands sank into his hair, and they clung to each other, their bodies, their mouths, demanding things for each other that maybe neither of them could give when they finally fell back to earth. Back to real life.

  But it didn’t matter at this moment.

  He finally broke his hold, but only to walk her backward across the room. When her heels bumped the rise of the step to her bed, he lifted her onto it. He followed her up, his mouth falling on hers, his kiss rough and hungry.

  And then they were both falling, her soft mattress coming up to catch them.

  He lifted his mouth from hers, and his hands found the belt at her waist, yanking it. He parted the robe, baring her body to him. He stared at her, and even though his unruly hair fell forward and shrouded part of his face, she could see his amber eyes glinting in the lamplight. Immediately she was reminded of that feral look she’d seen the first night she met him.

  For a moment she was frightened. This Rhys seemed so different from the one who’d made love to her before. That Rhys was gentle and giving.

  This one looked wild, starved. His eyes raked over her nakedness, as though he wanted to consume every inch of her, yet despite her uncertainty, she responded. Her nipples puckered into tight throbbing buds. Her vagina pulsed, and she could feel the moisture beading between her thighs. She wanted him. She wanted his possession.

  He seemed to sense her submission, and he fell on her. His mouth sucked at her breast, pulling the nipple deep into his mouth, his teeth scraping against the throbbing flesh.

  She cried out, the sensation almost too much, teetering somewhere between pleasure and pain. But still his aggressive touch aroused her madly as she writhed underneath him, her hands knotting in his hair, pulling him closer.

  While his mouth tormented her breasts, his hand slipped between her thighs. Spreading her open, he stroked the dampness there. His fingers were as rough as his mouth, and just as excruciatingly exciting.

  She wiggled against him, unsure what to do. How to please him.

  “Just let me taste,” he muttered against the curve of her breast, and for a moment she wasn’t sure if the voice was truly his or a figment of her own arousal-hazed mind.

  He moved down her body, his lips trailing wet kisses and little nips over her belly, heading lower and lower. Until he knelt between her spread thighs.

  She whimpered and tried to close her legs. But he caught them, keeping them open.

  “I want to look at you.” His voice was low, almost gruff. “Open them wide, Janie.”

  A ragged breath escaped her as she looked at him kneeling there, his eyes burning like a ravenous beast, and she knew he wanted her as his meal.

  She felt the heat of a blush scorch her cheeks, seeping down toward her chest. But then she also felt a matching heat between her thighs.

  Her legs quivered, but she did as he asked, letting them fall open.

  He groaned, his eyes fixing on the point at the apex of her thighs that begged for him. He touched her then, using both hands to spread her labia, exposing her.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured. “And mine. Mine alone.”

  She closed her eyes, overcome by his words, the hunger in his expression and her own spiraling need.

  She felt his hair brush her inner thigh first, but that tickling sensation was quickly obliterated by the sweep of his tongue, fiery and rough, licking over her.

  She gasped, then cried out as his tongue found her clitoris, lapping the hardened bud, circling it, finally sucking it with greedy lips.

  She called out his name, begging him to-she didn’t know what exactly. She just knew he was the only one who could give her the completion she needed.

  Rhys closed his eyes, drinking in the flavor of Jane. Her hands twisted in his hair, and her hips bucked up against his mouth. She moaned his name over and over again, her head thrashing back and forth on the mattress.

  His tongue left her clitoris and darted into the heat of her vagina, tasting her arousal, tasting the need and the thrill growing stronger in her very essence.

  And as her passion spun, and she spiraled wildly toward the release, the fierce, frantic hunger in himself took complete control.

  He had to taste her. Deeper, more fully t
han the juices of desire. He wanted to be one with her, to feel her life mingle with his. He had to satisfy this blinding hunger that tore at him.

  He again lapped the rigid little nub at the top of her sex, and she cried out, pressing herself hard to his mouth. He felt his teeth sharp against his own lips, and he shifted his mouth, moving upward until he was kissing the curls covering her plump mound.

  He opened his eyes, staring up at her, hoping that seeing her would help him focus, help him keep control. But it had the opposite effect. Her skin was creamy in the light, her breasts jiggling as she squirmed against his mouth. Her eyes closed, her mouth parted as she breathed in shallow puffs.

  He closed his eyes.

  God, he wanted her. For his very own. For eternity.

  He heard her scream, the sound sharp, piercing. Then he felt her convulse under his mouth. Then the sweet, delicious flavor of her release swirled over his tongue. He drank in her climax deeply as his own orgasm met hers.

  She cried out again and again as their orgasms united, and Rhys ceased to be and Jane ceased to be. They were one-their passion one.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Jane,” Rhys said, his voice low, the natural huskiness replaced by an almost guttural quality.

  She forced herself to open her eyes and found him watching her, his peculiar amber eyes fixed on hers. A frown creased his brow.

  She breathed a deep gulp of air, trying to calm the intense waves of sensation that still surged through her.

  She offered him a tremulous smile, even though she felt shaken to her core. What had just happened?

  Somehow she felt as if she’d just given Rhys more than when they had full intercourse, which made no sense. He had given to her, pleasured her.

  No, pleasuring didn’t even begin to do justice to what he’d done to her. Yet, she felt as though she’d given him her soul with her powerful release. But at the same time she felt as if he’d given her his soul in return.

  She closed her eyes again. She wasn’t making any sense. She wasn’t thinking straight. And a bone-deep exhaustion seemed to weigh heavily on her whole body.

  She felt Rhys move, coming up to lie beside her. Still she couldn’t seem to gather the strength to open her eyes.