by J E McDonald
24
Her softly spoken words cracked something inside him.
When he closed the small gap between them, her eyes widened. She took a step back. He kept going, moving her with his body but not touching her until her bottom hit the wall next to a crate. Roman whipped off his gloves, throwing them to the floor, then cupped her jaw. The spark of her soul flared in his head before it faded.
Beautiful Aubrey. Her hair shone in the light of the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Straight nose, full lips, plump cheeks colored pink under his fingers. Curves that pressed against the material of her T-shirt, her yoga pants.
She wanted him to touch her? He’d been resisting for her sake, keeping away because he would never be the man she needed in her life. If he gave her what she wanted, what he’d wanted from the moment he met her, then maybe she’d understand how very wrong he was for her.
His mouth crashed down on hers, hungry, wanting to gobble her up along with everything good she represented. Sweetness exploded across his palate. His tongue stroked hers. Fingernails dug into his shoulders, and her breath caught in the back of her throat. He knew he should slow down, but he continued to taste her. His hand skimmed her neck and collar bone, squeezed her breast on the way by, making her moan. He didn’t stop there, feeling the shape of her ribs, hips, and abdomen, then lower. He kept going, past the elastic waistband and into her underwear. Curls tickled his fingers as he searched for the heat of her core.
On a gasp, she broke their kiss. Both her hands flew to his wrist. Eyes wide, she stared up at him, her parted lips darkened by his kiss.
Frozen that way, he waited for her to say no, to tug his hand away from her and curse him for going too far.
Instead, she rocked into his hand.
His fingers slipped deeper between her legs. “Fuck,” he whispered, wetness coating his middle finger as it slid between her folds. So wet. She was already so wet for him.
Color high on her cheeks, she held his wrist still and didn’t break his gaze as she moved forward and back, fucking herself with his fingers.
Shit. She wasn’t going to stop him. This plan was backfiring all to hell.
She groaned when he shifted, sliding two fingers inside of her. The sound reverberated right through his skull, down his spine, settling in his cock. She slid down the wall, spreading her legs wider to give him better access.
So deep. He touched her inside so deep, and every time he slid out of her, he thumbed her clit. Little pants escaped her lips with each movement.
In the space of mere moments, his cock felt like it was about to burst out of his pants. He kissed her again, lapping up her moans with his mouth as he stroked her inside and out, giving her all the pleasure she desired. Her mouth tasted so good.
He wanted to taste all of her.
Fingers slick from her juices, he probed and petted, doing his best to make her pant. His thumb circled her clit. She quivered and moaned. Breaking the kiss, he pressed his lips against her hair, down to her ear, then along her throat, inhaling her strawberry scent into himself. Aubrey kept hold of his wrist, captured, like she was afraid he’d leave or stop.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
Her groans increased in tempo and strength, her movements becoming more frantic. She was about to come. Sinking his fingers deep inside her, he made sure to keep the pressure and pace of his thumb just right.
Shudders ran through her body, her thighs clenching tight. A gasp and a moan escaped her lips at the same time. Her orgasm was beautiful, with her head thrown back in surrender and her fingernails flexing into his wrist.
Unspent energy rolling through him, he pressed his forehead to the wall, content to stay that way for as long as she needed.
After a minute, she shifted beneath his hand. He lifted his head to stare at her flushed and satisfied face. Opening heavy-lidded eyes, she slowly pulled his hand out of her pants, the drag of his fingers making her twitch. He thought that would be the end of this little interlude, but she pulled his hand upward to her face. Without breaking his gaze, she sucked two fingers into her mouth, the same two fingers that had been inside her. He held his breath as she licked him clean.
Whatever restraint he’d been holding onto snapped in half.
He dropped to his knees, skimming her pants and underwear down with him. Freed from the clothing, her intoxicating scent bombarded his senses, making his mouth water. He needed to taste her.
“Roman,” she whispered, the words hoarse.
Looking up at her, he bent her one knee and hooked it over his shoulder. She opened up for him beautifully, all pink and wet, and he spread her wider with his thumb and forefinger while she dug her fingernails into his scalp.
He licked her, her flavor exploding across his tongue, making him groan. Sweet and tangy, she was like honey on his taste buds. He lapped up her juices, needing more. Pressing two fingers inside her, he kept his mouth and tongue on her clit while he fucked into her.
Licking her clit with light strokes, he sucked the little bud inside his mouth. It didn’t take her long to come a second time, the leg on his shoulder flexed as her muscles contracted around his fingers.
“Roman!” she shouted, her entire body shuddering.
The nails in his scalp sent electricity down his spine, through his buttocks and into his groin. While her body relaxed around him, he extracted his fingers, lowered her leg to the floor.
He stood, then stepped away from her. The temptation to have her wouldn’t quit. The sight of her against the wall, her yoga pants around her ankles, her skin bathed in a sex flush, her eyes staring at him with bemused satisfaction—he’d never seen anything more amazing. His cock pulsed so hard, all he could think about was bending her over the crate beside her, and burying himself deep inside her wet perfection.
He swallowed and clenched his fists to avoid doing just that.
He held onto his sanity until she squeezed her breast and said, “I need you inside me right now.”
Every little thing she did made him lose his shit that much more.
Stepping forward, he took her hips and spun her around. He bent her over the crate. The force knocked off the lid. It clattered to the floor with a bang, and he paused with his hand on his fly. He’d seen the crate numerous times since he’d started working here, thought it empty, but what he saw had the heat leaching from his body.
Aubrey braced her hands on either side of the crate, her bare ass lifted willingly. Instead of taking what she offered, he pulled her away from the crate, held her against him, her back to his front, and stared at the circular stone surface. The symbol etched into the top was unmistakable.
Icy cold dread washed through him, snuffing out the fire that had been burning inside him since Aubrey said she wanted him to touch her.
“What is this?” he asked, knowing his voice came out harsh but unable to help it, shattering the heat between them.
She stiffened. “I don’t know.”
When she tried to leave his embrace, he held fast. “Where did it come from?”
This time when she pulled away, he let go. “It just showed up a few days ago.” She didn’t look at him when she said it, instead reaching down for her pants and shoving them on her legs. “I couldn’t find a listing of the import company to contact them.”
He couldn’t stop staring at that symbol. Two symbols, really. One for angel, the other for demon. But arranged as they were, facing off with each other, they looked like one larger symbol. Gusion’s amulet had the same symbols. So had Aym’s sword. Now Aubrey had it in her store. It had been here the whole time.
She stood to the side, her arms wrapped around herself, eyes downcast. “Do you know what it is?”
“No,” he replied, stepping forward to reach inside the crate, lifting the solid object out. It had the shape of a vase, maybe more like an urn, symbols on the outside in three separate rows. A chill raced through him when he realized the bottom row was demon speak. Moe could probably translate it fo
r him, but he didn’t know the other two. The middle one could be Sumerian. “But I might know someone who does.”
The thought of contacting Jude, asking for his help, had another chill running through him.
The swift change in Roman stole her breath. One second he’d been about to fuck her doggy style and she’d been more than ready to take him. The next second he’d gone stone cold.
Being with him made her forget all the weirdness from today, and she resented that everything had changed. Her body still tingled from the two orgasms he’d given her. She’d come against his mouth. He’d finger fucked her like nobody’s business, and now it was like none of it had happened. The sweat dried on her body, making her shiver.
He’d finally dropped his shields, and she’d gotten a taste of what lay beneath. It had electrified her. His strength, his purpose, watching his expressions while his fingers had been inside her—she’d never been so turned on.
What happened? He stared at the vase thing like it offended him. But he’d said he didn’t know what it was, so how could he be so angry at it?
Smoothing her hair, she tried to get a handle on the emotions making her chest tighten. This long-ass day had been something else. First Finn’s freak-out, then finding out she had a murderous brother, then cleaning up the store, and now this. She was almost too tired to have a panic attack.
Lowering the thing back into the crate, he leaned down and picked up the lid, setting it back on top. “I’d like to take it to someone I know.”
“Sure,” she said, staring at the wall. The change in him made her jittery. She didn’t want to examine the vulnerability she felt right now. The man’s face had been up inside her private bits only minutes ago, and now he seemed as far away as when she’d met him. She couldn’t meet his eyes.
Escape. That’s what she needed. As much as she wanted to relive the way he’d made her feel, to reignite where they’d been headed, his mood had doused the fire. Awkwardness made her want to be by herself.
Moving past him, she headed into the store to retrieve her belongings.
He caught her hand, his fingers light on hers. “Aubrey,” he said, his voice quiet.
Finally, she looked at him. He’d lost some of the hardness he’d had when he’d first stopped their lovemaking, but his face didn’t hold any of the passion he wore when pleasuring her. Instead, tenderness shone back at her, mixed with an apology he didn’t voice.
She pulled her hand out of his and continued on to the front counter. “I’m going to lock up,” she said without looking at him. After putting on her sweater, she made sure the front door was bolted, then grabbed her messenger bag and slung it across her body.
Roman hadn’t moved, and she stopped in front of him to gaze into his blue and amber eyes. “Thanks for helping with the cleanup.” As far as post-oral gratitude went, she knew it was inadequate, but with him being so tight-lipped again, she wasn’t in the mood to be more generous.
His fingers twitched at his sides. For a second, she thought he was going to touch her again, to pull her in an embrace. She held herself tense until he nodded. Turning away, she led the way through the stockroom to the back door. As she unlocked the bolt, he stooped to pick up his gloves off the floor.
The sight of him needing to cover up his skin made a ragged breath escape her lips. Gratefully, she gulped in the evening air as she stepped outside. A light wind brushed her face, cooling her cheeks.
Her car was where she’d parked it that morning. Straightening her spine, she tried to put on a placid expression. “Do you need a ride?” she asked, looking past him.
He shook his head.
“Okay. I guess I’ll be seeing you, then?” She hated how uncertain the question sounded, swallowed around the newly formed lump in her throat. Unlocking her car door with shaky hands, she paused with her hand on the door handle when he spoke.
“Aubrey.”
He’d come up right behind her. She turned and tipped her head back to see his face in the dark. Shadows cut across his features in the dim of the alley, making him look dangerous. He took her fingers in his, then reached up to touch her face with his other hand. He cradled her jaw with a gentleness that made her stomach clench. The texture of his glove on her skin created shivers along her throat and collarbone.
She waited, expectant, to see what he would do next. On an exhale, he closed the small gap between them, his thigh between hers, capturing her against the car door. His mouth hovered over hers.
Lifting up on her toes, she brushed her lips against his.
A groan emerged from deep in his throat. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, his thigh almost lifting her off the pavement as his mouth took control. Her scent lingered on his lips, and it brought back everything they’d done together in the stockroom, making her hot and achy. Fingers digging into his hair, she rotated her hips against him, recreating the friction she so desperately wanted.
His cock burned against her. She wanted to keep going, to be taken like he’d been about to do inside, bent over the hood of the car with nothing between them but sweat. That thought led to another, and her hand snaked its way down his body to cup his sizable bulge. Whatever had haunted him in the stockroom hadn’t remained long. The kiss, him rocking into her hand, reaffirmed he wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him. Strength flowed from him into her exploring fingers.
Letting loose a sound of frustration, Roman lifted his head, her bottom lip caught between his teeth for a second. His hands dropped away from her, but she didn’t want to stop, the ache inside her growing.
This time, it was her who let out a moan of frustration when he stepped back, away from her searching hands. He tugged her away from the door enough to open it, then said, “I’m going to follow you to make sure you get home okay.”
With a nod, she poured herself inside, limbs rubbery from the kiss they shared. Once tucked inside, he closed the door with a gentle thud.
Gripping the steering wheel, she stared at him through the window. Maybe having a quickie in the back alley with dumpsters a few feet away wasn’t the ideal location for a romantic tryst, but the pulse between her legs throbbed so hard, she didn’t care. And if she didn’t care, why should he?
But if he was going to follow her home, he definitely meant to stay with her, right? He couldn’t leave her in this state. She wanted to unwrap him, take off all those layers to see what was hidden beneath, needing to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her.
She didn’t realize how long she stared at him, her thoughts mush, until he pointed at the steering wheel. Right. She should probably start her car.
With a nod, she turned the key and Roman stepped away from the door so she could shift into reverse. She watched him walk down the alley in her rear-view mirror, then his form disappeared from sight once she turned the corner.
A few blocks later, she saw his truck behind her. Good. Because the ache between her legs wasn’t going away. Never in her life had she been so horny. A gentleman would finish what he started, and she’d let him know that as soon as she got home.
Stella’s car was in the driveway when she arrived, and she pulled in beside it. Getting out, she looked over her shoulder at Roman’s truck. He wasn’t parking but idled in the middle of the road. Like he was going to leave.
Son of a bitch. She shut her car off, got out, and moved toward his truck to give him a piece of her mind. Before she’d taken two steps, he lifted his hand in a wave, then sped off down the street. She narrowed her eyes at his hasty retreat.
Obviously, Roman was not a gentleman. He’d never leave her like this if he knew how much she ached inside. She groaned and pressed her thighs together. Without Roman in the picture right now, all she had to look forward to was a date with one of her vibrators.
Unenthusiastically, she trudged up the front steps and inside. “Hey,” she said, setting her messenger bag on the floor.
Stella poked her head up on the other side of the pass-thr
ough to the kitchen. “Whoa. That’s some horn-dog energy coming off of you. What have you been up to?”
Her cheeks burning, Aubrey pressed her lips together. Some days she really hated that Stella could read her so well. “None of your business,” she muttered, but she was happy the tension between Stella and Roman had ebbed away—even if it was because there were worse things to worry about. Like Finn having been murdered and her brother being the one who did it.
Thoughts of her brother made all the horniness leak right out of her.
“How’s Nana?” she asked, walking into the kitchen.
Stella frowned. “Agitated. Not making much sense.” Rubbing at her forehead, she said, “By the time I left, she was okay, but I’m worried she’s having another downhill slide.”
Nana was Stella’s grandmother, a witch as well, and her only family. She’d been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a year and a half ago, and had been doing well until recently. The event with Stella’s father had seemed to put the older witch in a bad spot.
“I’m sorry,” Aubrey said, pulling her in for a hug. “I know how hard her bad days are on you.”
Stella squeezed her back and sniffed. “It makes me appreciate the good ones more.”
They went through the motions of making supper in a subdued state. Stella already had a vegetable soup bubbling on the stove, and Aubrey took out the fixings to make a salad.
They’d just started with the dirty dishes when Aubrey’s phone rang from inside her messenger bag. She retrieved it and saw Abigail’s number on the call display.
Heart skipping a beat, she answered. “Hello?”
“Aubrey. Hi. I was surprised by your message today.” Abigail’s no-nonsense voice came clear across the line, familiar in a heart-clenching way.
“Yeah, sorry.” Aubrey sat on the edge of the couch. “I know it’s been a while since I called.” After Lina and Charles died, she hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with her old life. She ripped herself away from anyone she knew in Washington like a Band-Aid, including Abigail.