by J E McDonald
She couldn’t stop looking into his eyes, the connection they’d created making her chest hurt like she was about to have a panic attack. But instead of panic, the sensation traveled through her limbs until she felt like one large exposed nerve ending.
They kept climbing together, the intensity in his gaze making her heart beat faster in her chest. When their breaths echoed off the walls, short and ragged, he reached down between them and thumbed her clit. It drove her right to the edge and over. She felt the orgasm in depths she didn’t known she had. Fingernails digging into his shoulders, her body clenched around him, milking him with a force that felt so good it almost hurt. A sob escaped her.
His lips crashed against hers as he picked up the pace between them, burying his cock as deep as possible with every stroke until he let out a shout. His whole body jerked with release. His fingers dug into her scalp.
She held him tight, pressing lips into his throat, trembling along with him.
“Fuck, Aubrey,” he ground out against her shoulder. Teeth skimmed her collarbone, then he lifted his head.
Her heart leaped into her throat at the look in his eyes. She swallowed, not remembering if anyone had ever looked at her that way.
Cradling her jaw, he pressed another sweet kiss to her lips. Her heart pounded at his tenderness. It seemed impossible for him to be so gentle with her. He was so large, and hard, and deadly, but he found some place in himself that could be gentle and caring with her. Her throat tightened, and she couldn’t look away.
It took long moments for either of them to move.
Wrapping his arms around her, he shifted to the edge of the mattress and stood, lifting her up, separating them, and settling her down on the bed. She missed his warmth already. It only took him a moment to toss the condom in the waste bin beside the bedside table, before returning to her.
Sweat tickled her flesh as the heat between them cooled. He covered them both with her duvet. When he tucked her in close to his chest, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his jaw. He hugged her tighter.
She couldn’t keep her hands off him, stroking his chest up and down, feeling for every muscle ridge and cut, imprinting each one in her mind. He might have scars, inside and out, but he was beautiful.
Her hand settled over his heart, the steady rhythm pressing against her palm, the light dusting of hair tickling her skin. It had become important to her, his heart, that it kept beating, that he stayed safe. There’d been few people in her life she’d allowed close to her, and this was the reason why.
She cared for him. The way he attained wounds on his body, and the knowledge it would happen again…she couldn’t stop it. The bandage on his thigh was evidence of that.
The rise and fall of her chest sped up at the thoughts, panic trying to break through the warmth of their lovemaking. Roman stroked her spine, and her thoughts settled some. He was here with her now, safe and sound. She’d hug him tight and not let him go.
It wouldn’t be easy to keep hold of such a dynamic force.
She knew he watched her, could feel his gaze on her face even though she kept her eyes on the hand resting on his chest. Struggling to keep her emotions under wraps, she played with the springy hair dusting his breastbone. Could she keep hold of him? Maybe a man like him wouldn’t want to stay.
That made her chest hurt even more.
Closing her eyes, she pressed her lips to his ribs. A soft grunt escaped him. She tipped her face up to his, intrigue filling her. Was he ticklish? The thought made her grin. With hooded eyes, he watched her as she pressed a kiss to the exact same rib. He grunted again, his arms tense around her.
She didn’t know it was possible for her heart to melt more. How could this hard man be so soft in other ways? She would never have guessed he’d be so gentle with her in their lovemaking, so erotic. Every touch had been filled with sweetness.
The wandering of her mind took her back where they’d come from, to the place where she panted and he groaned and they both wound up satisfied. It gave her something else to think about besides concern for his safety. Her hand drift lower, across his abdomen and under the duvet.
“Soooo,” she said, into his ear. “How about that pirate thing?” She stroked his cock, making it twitch and harden in her hand.
With speed that had her breath leaving her chest, he pinned her beneath him, capturing her wrists above her head. “Arrrr, fair maiden. Prepare to be plundered.” He wore a ferocious frown, but it was ruined by the glee in his eyes.
The giggle that escaped her was swallowed by his kisses.
34
Roman traced the outer edge of Aubrey’s ear with his finger and marveled again at the woman sleeping in his arms. Her shoulder, her arm, her fingers, everything about her was perfect. His hand traveled down her spine, mesmerized by her skin, so soft and smooth. She murmured something unintelligible, arching toward him like a cat. Every time he touched her, she responded with her whole self. In the beginning he’d convinced himself they could share mutual enjoyment, then move on. It would be for the best.
But he hadn’t been able to hold back.
Leaning close, he pressed a kiss to her earlobe. She sighed and he snuggled closer, forming her naked body to his, chest to toes. He’d never get enough of the feel of her, her curves and softness—the opposite of him.
He didn’t want to let her go.
When she’d started touching him, he’d told himself to put an end to it, to keep his distance for her wellbeing. And when she’d started to take his clothes, he knew it would only be a matter of time before she saw too much of his past and ran away screaming.
Except, she hadn’t. He’d seen the fear in her eyes, a fear for him, but instead of running away she’d touched him like she cared, like his past mattered to her. His fingers flexed against her soft skin.
Once she’d accepted him for who he was, once she’d knelt between his knees, it was game over—she just didn’t know it. She’d sealed her fate. He was keeping her and wouldn’t leave her bed until she was weak from pleasure.
They’d used three more condoms from her box in her side table before he’d let her sleep, but even now he was tempted to wake her again with his mouth on her lush little body, making her come before she fully woke. Being with her made him want more, and he didn’t think he’d be able to walk away from her. What they’d shared meant something, and he had seen it in her eyes that she felt it too.
Every time they’d separated and he would touch her again, her soul shot through him, blinding and brilliant. He thought he’d be used to it by now, but it took his breath away every time. And wasn’t he a bastard for enjoying it, using her soul as some sort of cleansing balm for his own?
If only it worked that way. If only by lying next to her he could somehow become clean. But that wasn’t why he wanted her close. It was something much deeper and much more selfless than that. He tucked her tighter to his side, smoothing the hair away from her face when she murmured.
When everything was over, when her brother was dealt with, and Aym was sent back to Hell where he belonged, he’d try to be a better person. For Aubrey. He’d try to be worthy of a person whose goodness made waking up in the morning so much brighter.
A buzzing sound erupted from the floor. His phone was hidden somewhere in their heap of clothing. He glanced at the clock on the side table. Seven in the morning. For a moment, he wanted to ignore it, to just enjoy where he was, but with everything going on, he knew it wasn’t the right decision. It could be Agent Martinez with more information on Aubrey’s brother.
Carefully, he rolled her off his arm to her side and stretched far enough to reach his jacket pocket. When he saw the call display, he swore. It was from Our Lady of Sacrifice. An address.
His thumb hovered over the screen, not wanting to send the acceptance that committed him to the job. Now wasn’t the time to leave Aubrey on her own. But people’s lives could be in danger, and if he was the one who’d been contacted, then he was the closest to the
job. A handful of seconds could mean death for a person.
With a flick of his thumb, he went to his GPS app and put in the address. Almost three hours away. He’d be gone most of the day, and depending what he found, it could even be longer. An uneasy sensation spread through his body. He didn’t want to leave her.
Yesterday, he’d put Martinez’s number in his phone, and he found it now. His finger hovered over the contact a few seconds before he opened up a blank text message.
It’s Milone. I need to leave town for the day. Keep an eye on Aubrey. He sent it, then brushed a hand over Aubrey’s hair as he waited for a response.
A full minute passed before his text was returned.
Why does everyone think I’m a babysitter?
Of course the annoying agent would need to make this difficult. With jerky movements, he texted back.
She has a killer after her. You seem to like following people. Are you going to do it or not?
Another minute passed.
Fine.
For some reason, he could hear the agent’s petulant tone in his head.
Even with the added security of the good agent Martinez, Roman still didn’t feel okay about leaving town for the day.
He found Stella’s number. He’d had it since working for the Lillers. I need to leave town for the day and don’t want Aubrey by herself.
There wasn’t an immediate text from her, so he sent the same one to Zack too. His reply came seconds later.
I can check on her.
A little more tension eased from Roman’s body. After texting his thanks, Roman sent Our Lady of Sacrifice his official acceptance of the job.
Now he needed to tell Aubrey. He didn’t look forward to it. Not after the concern she’d had for him over his scars. Stretching out beside her, he woke her with kisses on her neck.
Once she stirred, he ran his lips over her ear. “What are your plans for the day?” he asked quietly. With everything happening around her, he didn’t want her to leave the house. He skimmed his lips over her shoulder,
“Mmmm,” she murmured, rolling on her back to see his face. “Probably staying in bed all day.” Touching his jaw, she skimmed her hand over his shoulder, along his hand, then lower.
He stalled her wrist on his abdomen.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, a frown pulling at her brows.
Hesitating a moment, he said, “I have to go. I have a job.”
Her whole body stiffened, and she sat up, brushing hair out of her face. “A job?” Dread filled her eyes, and she clutched the duvet to her naked chest.
“I’ll be back by dinner. Probably earlier.” Her concern warmed him, but it was unnecessary. “Don’t…worry about me.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” she said, her eyes becoming panicked, her breaths coming out short and fast.
“You won’t be alone. I’ll leave Moe with you for the day.”
Fingers flexing on the duvet, she shook her head. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“You should be,” he said softly, brushing her hair away from her forehead. When he lowered his hand, she clutched it tight. “I don’t want to leave you when your brother runs free.” Not to mention Aym, but that was a discussion for another time. He wouldn’t add fuel to a possible panic attack.
On top of that, he hadn’t told Aubrey about how far her brother’s obsession really went, about the mutilated pictures he’d found. He should tell her now, but with her face pale and her hand gripping his so tight it cut off the circulation, he didn’t want to tip her over the edge.
“That’s nothing compared to what you do for a living,” she said, swallowing.
“I’ve survived so far.”
“Don’t be nonchalant about it.” A stormy expression crossed her features. “Not when I’ve seen all of these.” She brushed her fingers over the scars across his chest.
Her bright soul flared in his eyes. Goosebumps formed on his skin. He covered her fingers with his own, then lifted her hand to press a kiss to her palm. When her breath caught in her throat, he couldn’t resist leaning closer, his lips skimming hers.
The kiss turned carnal in the space of a heartbeat. He wished he could stay. He wished he could show her how much she meant to him one more time before he left.
Releasing her, he gave her dazed face one last kiss, then shifted to the edge of the bed in search of his clothes.
“You need to go now?”
“Yes.” He grabbed his jeans from the floor. “Lingering any longer could mean life or death for someone.” At least the autumnal equinox was a week away. He still had time to figure out how to stop the prophecy. He’d do this job, then let the Church know he couldn’t take any other jobs for the next week.
Aubrey was too important, her brother and Aym too dangerous.
Fully dressed, he turned back to her. Aubrey clutched the duvet against her chest, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He wanted to stay, to erase the worry from her face, but this was him, for better or worse. He had a job to do.
With a nod, he stepped toward the door. Her next words stopped him. “Can you text me?” she asked, her voice small. “So I know you’re okay?”
Chest constricting, he turned around and leaned over the bed to give her one last kiss. “Of course.” He tucked her hair behind her ear before he stood and left quickly before he could say screw it and tell the Church to find someone else.
After grabbing Aubrey’s car keys out of her messenger bag so he could retrieve his toolbox from her back seat, he headed outside. The sun was only a hint of a glow in the east, the stars brighter than its muted glow. Roman hesitated on the top step, listening for sounds that would clue him in to Moe’s location. He heard nothing but the wind and the crickets.
“Moe,” he said softly into the pre-dawn air. The camouflaged demon appeared by his side a moment later, the space beside him shifting slightly. “I have a new job.” He headed to the Civic and opened the door.
“Moe is ready,” he said, his disembodied voice quiet. “Yes.”
“I need you to stay with Aubrey while I’m gone.” Grabbing the toolbox out of the back seat, he closed and locked the door. “I don’t want her to be alone when there’s a chance her brother is nearby. Did you find anything when you were out?”
“All is quiet for Moe. Yes.”
And his scar only itched with Moe’s presence, nothing else. For now, Aubrey was safe. But it killed him to go. He didn’t want to leave her for even a second. Finn hadn’t returned to him with any news of her brother’s whereabouts, and that had him even more apprehensive. Why hadn’t the ghost contacted him again?
“Stay with her, but also give her space.”
“Space. Yes. Moe has been watching the space on the TV. Very cold in space. Very quiet. Yes.”
Roman let out a sigh. “Not that kind of space. I mean don’t crowd her and don’t eat her cat.”
“But the furry lollipop hissed at Moe. Yes.”
“You’d make Aubrey really sad if you ate him.”
“Moe doesn’t want Aubrey O.K. to be sad. No.” His tone turned melancholy.
“Good. Then no furry lollipops,” Roman said as he passed Moe the car keys. “Put these back in her bag and lock the door once you’re inside.”
“Yes. Moe will be very brave. Yes,” was the last thing he heard before the demon scampered inside. Roman didn’t move until her heard the deadbolt click.
With one last glance at the house, he closed the gap to his truck. He still had to return home for some of his gear, more gasoline, and a change of clothes.
But the sooner he got this damn job over with, the sooner he could get back to Aubrey.
35
Aubrey fell back into the pillows, trying not to cry. Unreasonable fear, the thought of never seeing Roman again, churned in her stomach.
This was what happened when she cared about someone. This was why she avoided connections with people. This was why she needed Stella to check in with her. Bec
ause as soon as she cared about someone, as soon as they stepped into a vehicle, she thought she’d never see them again. Every scenario of their death ran through her mind nonstop.
It could be a drunk driver.
It could be bad road conditions.
It could be driving too fast.
It could be an inattentive driver.
It could be a mechanical malfunction.
Now she needed to add demons to the list.
Clutching her chest, she sank into the covers and tried to take deep breaths, counting out slowly to regulate her pace. As soon as she closed her eyes, she pictured Roman’s face, how he’d looked before he left. She needed to remember that, to focus on his innate confidence.
Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, she recalled their night together, and it centered her. She remembered how he’d touched her, how he’d made her feel, how he’d always been more concerned over her pleasure than his own. She hadn’t needed to suggest grabbing one of the vibrators out of her top drawer to reach fulfillment. Roman made sure she was satisfied.
He’d been so tender, so gentle. And he hadn’t let her escape the intimacy of the act. She hadn’t thought he’d be like that, his size alone lending to thoughts of rough and tumble, not saccharine sweet.
And every time she’d touched him somewhere new, he’d reacted as if she were the first woman to have ever given him that kind of pleasure, to have touched him with regard. It had felt like he’d needed her as much as she needed him.
Slowly, the tightness in her chest loosened, and she took deeper breaths.
If she wanted to spend more time with Roman, she’d need to accept what he did for a living. It was dangerous work, but she needed to trust he could handle himself. Despite the scars on his body, he was well and whole. She needed to reframe it in a way that wouldn’t bring panic to her heart.
After breathing through her nose, she told herself there were lots of jobs where a person could acquire cuts and scrapes. A mechanic perhaps, or an electrician. Roman was just a guy, working with his hands.