Saving Jace

by Rebecca Rivard

  Zuri appeared with Tigger in the curve of one arm. He set the cat down and took over for Beau on guard duty. To Evie’s amusement, Tigger stalked around the perimeter of the backyard as if he were on duty too before settling on a branch of the maple. Meanwhile, Horace and Beau went out for groceries, and a short while later Suha, Adric and Marjani showed up with beer and wine.

  That night Evie and Jace made fried chicken, biscuits, and sweet corn for everyone. Somehow the whole group fit around the kitchen table. Evie took in the hard-eyed soldiers bantering with one another as they downed her fried chicken, and felt like pinching herself. Two weeks ago, she hadn’t even known Jace existed, and now he had his hand on her thigh under the table, his pinky teasing the edge of her shorts—and the Baltimore alpha was seated a few chairs down, grinning at something Kyler had said.

  She wanted to gather up the day like the gift it was and hold it close so she’d never forget it.

  But the best part was yet to come. This time, Jace didn’t even wait for Kyler to go to bed, just stood up as Adric and Marjani left, pulling Evie to her feet along with him.

  “Good night, everyone.” He nodded to his den mates, who were sprawled around the room, Kyler in their midst, watching the basketball playoffs. Even Tigger was watching, curled up on Suha’s lap.

  Kyler just gave them a wave before turning back to the game. “Night, you two.”

  Jace set a hand on the small of Evie’s back and steered her down the hall. The moment they were in the bedroom, he backed her up against the door, framed her face with his hands and kissed her, hard and deep.

  Evie’s head swam. She gripped his waist and hung on as her heart pounded in her ears. He moved his mouth to her neck and nipped the beating pulse, sending a jolt clear to her womb.

  “Goddess, I want you.” A harsh growl against her skin.

  She drew a serrated breath. “Me too.”

  “Show me.”

  He didn’t need to ask twice. She slid her fingers into his hair and dragged his mouth down to hers. Kissing him with all the hunger in her heart. Sucking his tongue into her mouth. Nipping his lips. Sliding a hand down his back to squeeze one of his firm buttocks.

  His breath sped up. His hips moved, pressing into her belly. She could feel his cock, thick and ready.

  He removed her arms from his neck and pressed them against the door, her hands on either side of her head. “You’re mine, Evie.” His eyes seared into hers, dark gold touched with the green of his cat.

  She wet her lips. “You said we don’t mix.” But a part of her cried, yes.

  “I’m an ass. Now say it.” He nipped her jaw, and pleasure jolted straight to her clit. “I want the words. Just for tonight.”

  “Or else what?” Her jaw jutted. Because that had hurt, what he’d said about the two of them not mixing. She might have her own doubts, but not because he was a fada.

  But you agreed, a little voice reminded her.

  He lifted a single black brow. “Are you teasing a cat?”

  She moistened her lips, but she was damned if she’d back down. “Yes.”

  “Oh, baby,” he crooned in a dark voice that made her inner thighs clench. “Then you better be ready to play.” He captured her wrists in one hand and held them above her head, while with his other hand he undid her shorts. “Or else what?” he repeated. “Maybe I’ll keep you against the door until you beg to come.”

  She slid him a look from under her lids. “Maybe I’d like that.”

  He chuckled and skimmed his fingers under the waistband of her panties. She was wearing her only sexy underwear—black satin with a touch of lace and a bra to match.

  His heated gaze took in the black lace against her cream-colored skin. “Did you wear these for me?” When she nodded, he murmured, “Good girl. Now say it, Evie.”

  But as soon as she opened her mouth, he covered it with his as if afraid to let her speak. Her heart lurched as she realized he didn’t expect her to say it. He kissed her as if he were aching as much as she was, his tongue curling over hers, taking her deeper by slow degrees. Meanwhile, his fingers slid deeper into her panties, teasing her sensitized flesh until she was breathless and aching.

  She wanted to touch him. Her hands jerked in his grip but he wouldn’t let her go. He kept them pressed to the door above her head and continued kissing her until she was dazed, her legs like limp noodles.

  He lifted his head, his expression hard and a little wild, and she knew his cat was inside, looking out. He squeezed her bottom. “You’re a bad girl to wear these tight little shorts. All day, I kept looking at your ass and picturing what I was going to do to you when we were alone. I swear my cock was hard the whole fucking day. And this little shirt…” Long, work-roughened fingers stroked her belly. “The way you keep flashing me. It’s enough to drive a man insane.”

  She dragged in a breath and laughed up at him, but God, he was making her hot. “I wasn’t flashing you. All you could see was my stomach.”

  “You think that isn’t bad?” He released her wrists and jerked up her T-shirt to expose her breasts. “I wanted to taste you, lick you, and then move up your stomach to your hot tits.” He pinched her nipples through the black satin…and then his mouth was on her and he was sucking the points to hardness.

  She cupped his head, holding him close. His mouth was warm and wet. Each hot suck shot straight to her womb.

  She moaned, and he gave a sexy rumble in response. From her breasts, he moved his way lower, trailing a searing line of kisses down her abdomen until he reached her mound.

  “Mine,” he growled against her panties. He pursed his lips and blew a hot stream of air into the satin right above her clit. “Say it.”

  She whimpered and pressed her palms against the door, her body straining to him. “God, yes. Please.”

  He stilled. Slowly his eyes turned up to hers, so that she felt like prey. Sexy, not-even-going-to-try-to-run prey. Then his lips curved in a wicked smile. “But I’m still going to tease you…because we both like it.”

  He came to his feet and swung her into his arms. The world spun and Evie nipped his shoulder. “I do. Like it, I mean.”

  His answer was a fierce kiss. When it ended, she was on the bed with him kneeling over her.

  The first thing he did was to strip off her clothes. He dropped them next to the bed and sent his own after them. “That’s better.” His gaze stroked down her body where she lay with one knee bent up, lingering on her nipples, which tingled eagerly, and then continued down to the tuft of dark blond hair between her legs.

  “You’re darker here.” He traced a fingertip through her curls.

  “Because I’m a natural blond. This—” she touched the hair on her head—“gets bleached by the sun. That doesn’t, unless I sunbathe naked.” She slanted him a wicked smile.

  “Damn.” He pressed her bent leg down and straddled her. “Now I’ve got a picture in my head of you spread out naked in the sun like a fucking sex goddess.” He traced a finger around her nipples and then down her breastbone. “Would you burn?”

  “No—I don’t burn. I just get a little darker.”

  “Beautiful,” he murmured as he stroked her flank. “This afternoon in the sun, you sparkled like someone sprinkled silver dust on you. I wonder if you have some sun fae in you. You should talk to Queen C about it.”

  “Sure. I’ll just drive up to Rising Sun and knock on her door. If she even has a door…”

  “Adric knows her. He could talk to her.”

  She shook her head. “If the sun fae wanted me, they’d have done something a long time ago.”

  “Maybe. The fae have their own way of looking at things, though. And time moves more slowly for them. She may be planning on doing something, but by the time she gets around to it, you’ll be fifty years old. You should think about it—the sun fae can help you train your Gift, if you don’t want to ask Leesa.”

  “All right—I’ll think about it.” She trailed a finger down the hard muscl
es of his abdomen. “But right now, I have better things to do.”

  “I like how you think, woman.” His eyes glinted with his cat: golden brown with shards of green radiating out from the pupils.

  She slipped her arms around his neck. “You promised I’d see your jaguar again.”

  “Mm.” His chest rumbled, and she grinned.

  “Are you purring?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a sheepish smile. “The cat likes you.”

  “So I can see him?”

  “Sure.” He backed off and crouched on the mattress. Color cascaded over his skin, bright bits of green and gold and copper that reminded her of the inside of a fae light. They spread out until his body glittered, indescribably beautiful.

  And then suddenly, his form was more cat than man, and then a black panther stood on the foot of the bed. He was big and brawny, with powerful legs and long, sharp canines. This close, she could see the roseate pattern on his pelt—large, irregular black spots surrounded by a dark walnut that blended in to make him appear all black from a distance.

  She drew in a breath, awed and the tiniest bit afraid, even though she knew it was Jace.

  He settled next to her and nudged her with his head. “You want me to pet you?” He rumbled and nudged her harder, so much like Tigger it was impossible to be afraid. “Okay,” she said with a chuckle and smoothed a hand over his head. His fur was velvety soft over the hard bones of his skull. “You’re beautiful.”

  He pushed his head harder into her hand, and then crept even closer so he could rub against her jaw. Marking her with his scent.

  She turned her head and their eyes met. His irises were a pure green now, but she saw the man there too, his gaze alive with intelligence.

  She stroked a hand over his jaw. This time his purr was loud and clear.

  He came up over her, and rubbed his head over her chest. Her already sensitized nipples hardened. Her breasts felt achingly full.

  Then he moved down her body and rubbed his head against her mound, too. Her breath sucked in. “Jace.”

  He gave a badass growl and came on top of her again, a paw on either side of her head. His fur glittered, and she watched as he changed back to man. This time it was a quick shift—less than thirty seconds.

  “I want you,” he said in a gravelly voice that was half cat, half man. “Now.”

  “Yes.” Her arms were already around him. Her hips rocked off the bed, touching his erection where it hung, hard and heavy.

  His fingers speared into her hair, holding her still as he trailed love-bites over her neck. Her insides clenched. Something unexpected in her liked being held down like that—firm and yet gentle at the same time. His to tease however he wished.

  His other hand went to her pussy. He dipped a finger into her, and then trailed the moisture around her tender nub. Pleasure swirled through her. “Yes. There.”

  “That’s it, angel. Take it.” He continued to play with her, but when her sex tightened, he took his hand away.

  She moaned his name, and he said, “You can come when I’m inside you.”

  “Get on with it then,” she said between her teeth.

  His cheek creased. “You’re so damn cute.”

  For answer, she reached down and squeezed him. His smile disappeared. She worked her hand up and down him, toying with his balls, learning the feel of him. His cock spurted with pre-cum and she rubbed it over the slick cap, enjoying how his eyes slit with pleasure.

  His hips gave an involuntary jerk and she squeezed harder. “Fuck,” he muttered. He removed her hand and grabbed a rubber from the night table. He worked it over his erection, and then crawled back on top of her. She reached between their bodies and guided him to her entrance. They both watched as he slowly entered her.

  Her breath hissed out. He paused, and she met his eyes. She knew what he wanted.

  “Please. I want it. I want you.”

  He slid in another inch. “That’s it, Evie. I love it when you beg me.”

  “Please,” she said again.

  He slid deeper, and then withdrew again. He continued moving in and out in tantalizing increments until at last he was fully seated in her.

  She rotated her hips in slow circles, pleasuring them both.

  His jaw clenched. “That’s it. Take me, baby. Tease me.”

  His hand was in her hair again, the other hand on her ass as he began to move in her, holding her in place for his firm, perfect thrusts. From somewhere far off, she heard herself making sounds of arousal, soft at first, and then louder as her pleasure increased.

  It was so good. Her chest constricted. Because she’d found him, but she couldn’t keep him.

  “Mine,” he said, and she nodded, throat tight.

  Because she was Jace’s, for as long as he wanted her. It was crazy, but it felt right.

  But even if she waited until Kyler was grown up, they were from such different worlds. How did she know it wouldn’t just be her mom and Fane all over again?

  Sensation stormed through her, searing her nerves. And then she was convulsing around him in an explosive orgasm that both shot her high—and cracked her heart.

  26

  Corban hurt. His injured leg throbbed, and his head pounded in time.

  He’d tried again to heal his thigh, but his quartz had been pushed too hard. He’d have to heal the old-fashioned way, which was too damned slow. Every hour he was incapacitated was another hour that Adric had to track him.

  Morning came. He couldn’t see the sunrise, but he noted it with a fada’s internal clock. He got up to pee and downed several cups of water before curling up in the blankets again. The day passed with agonizing slowness. He was hungry, but all he had to eat were a couple of nutrient bars he’d brought from Iceland. He rationed them out—one in the morning, one that evening—and ignored his hollow stomach.

  He considered calling one of his brothers, but he was wary of letting even them know his location. Kane could be trusted, but Nash was Adric’s man now. And even if they didn’t betray him, they might inadvertently lead someone to his lair.

  No, it was safer to remain incommunicado.

  Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll go out hunting. The park had rabbits and other small mammals. His wolf salivated hungrily.

  Outside, night fell. He forced himself to move his injured leg. The pain made his chest seize, but it was getting better.

  He gritted his teeth and forced himself to exercise the torn hamstring: stretching it, bending the knee.

  Midnight came and went. He wrapped himself in a blanket and dozed, tormented by fevered dreams. Nika, furious that he’d left her behind to face the music. His father telling him what a weak excuse for a man he was.

  But the worst was the black shadows that slithered out of the walls and wound chill fingers around his limbs. His nostrils twitched. Metal and decay.

  He jerked awake to find Tyrus staring down at him.

  The night fae lord was dressed in black from his overpriced duster to his handmade leather shoes. Tall and thin, he loomed over Corban like an elegant crow, his eyes dark coals in his pale face.

  “Get up.” He planted his toe in Corban’s ribs.

  Corban had already thrown off the blanket. He rose to his feet, ignoring the pain that stabbed through his leg. Never let them see that you’re weak.

  Even standing, he had to look up. He was tall for an earth fada, but the night fae had a good six inches on him.

  “Jones is still alive.” Tyrus’s tone was icy with scorn. “And Adric took your woman prisoner. What the fuck am I paying you for?”

  “Kill him yourself then,” Corban snarled. “Your assassin failed, too.”

  Tyrus struck. Long white fingers wrapped around Corban’s throat, rattlesnake-fast. “You dare argue with me, fada?” He gave Corban a shake.

  Corban growled. His claws slid out and he took a swipe at Tyrus, but the night fae grabbed his wrist and shoved him back against the wall.

  Stunned, Corban stared at Ty
rus. The man must have the Gift of wayfaring. Only a fae who could move at an inhuman speed could’ve evaded a fada so easily.

  Fear coated his insides.

  Tyrus held Corban pinned against the wall. His gaze snagged Corban’s. He froze, ensnared by the unholy red flicker in the night fae’s pupils.

  Energy hummed over Corban’s skin—cold and black as the slithering shadows of his nightmare. His bowels iced.

  “No,” he said, but the sound was swallowed in the darkness.

  The energy increased, braiding itself into ropes. One rope twined around his skull, while a second spiraled around his chest and a third licked up his injured leg.

  Blackness. Endless as a nightmare. He was small, helpless, cowering before his father.

  “Stupid cub.” A hand clouted him in the head. His ears rang. A single tear slid down his cheek, and his father hit him again, disgusted.

  “Stop your blubbering, you little coward.”

  Corban tried, but the tears wouldn’t dry up. They ran down his cheeks, hot and damning.

  Leron hit him again and again, until his face was on fire and he was woozy with pain. He didn’t stop until Corban forced the tears down into somewhere so deep and tightly guarded, they never escaped again.

  The rope around Corban’s chest constricted. Panic clawed at him. He was forced to take short, shallow breaths, unable to fill his lungs.

  “I own you,” Tyrus said, soft and cold. “We have a contract.”

  Despair washed over Corban. He fought the urge to turn his head and offer submission to the night fae in the way of his wolf.

  But he’d been raised by a bastard. Despair and hopelessness were mother’s milk to Leron Savonett’s son.

  Rage rose up in him. All the rage the sniveling little boy had had to hide. It blew away the despair, replacing it with a red-eyed fury. His head pounded, and his vision clouded.

  His switchblade practically leapt into his hand. He released the blade with a snick and pressed it into Tyrus’s belly. “Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me.”

  Surprise flashed over the other man’s face. He released Corban and took a step back, but his silent assault continued—only now, he was feeding off Corban’s anger.