by Shona Husk
The florescent light was bright, not hiding anything. There was no dark room where he could bury the memory. It would be burned into him. The way her tongue tracked over her lip as his finger circled and moved over her slick skin. Her breasts moving as she rocked her hips to match his movements. He ground his hips against her, wanting to pull back and sink into her wet heat.
He leaned over and grabbed the first aid kid off the counter and rifled through it with one hand. At the bottom were condoms. He carefully used his teeth to tear open the packet, then pulled away to roll the rubber on. With his knee, he nudged her legs further apart, and for a moment he was torn between keeping eye contact and looking down and seeing her exposed to him. Eye contact in the mirror won as he didn’t need to see what he was doing.
His fingers slid over the slick lips of her pussy, then dipped in. Her hips lifted, offering more. He wasn’t one to say no. He was still expecting her to realize this was a bad idea; one of them had to be smart. One of them should wake up and realize this couldn’t end well. As he pressed the head of his cock into her, he knew it wasn’t going to be him. She moved her hips as if trying to get him to enter faster.
“Do it.” There was no uncertainty in her voice, just rough lust. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid. He liked that she didn’t play games and kept him guessing.
He gripped her hips and thrust in. She groaned and closed her eyes, giving him permission to look away, too. Her breasts jiggled in rhythm with his thrusts, each one a little deeper as her body got used to having him there. Then he lowered his gaze to where their bodies joined and the way she took him. Little moans escaped from her with each breath as her hips met his thrust for thrust. Tension coiled around his balls. He slid his finger back to her clit, all swollen and slick. He wanted to lick it and taste her.
Not now, not this time. Would there be another time?
He closed his eyes, wanting her to come before he did. She tried to move faster, but he gripped her harder. Any faster and he would go, and he was pretty sure she’d be dark with him if that happened. Her pussy contracted around him, she was close. Her back arched like a cat’s and then she let out a shaky, half-choked gasp as she came, clenching hard around his cock.
Fuck, yeah. He gave a couple more hard, deep thrusts and let himself come. The release rippled through him and for a few moments nothing else mattered. He let his head fall back as he stood still, locked inside of her and unwilling to move just yet. Any other time and he’d have been out and away with a thanks and no second glances. Not possible this time, and he didn’t want to move. He wanted to hold onto the moment a little longer, not just the release that was now fading, but the closeness. She’d watched him and he’d watched her. They’d been connected for a few minutes in the pursuit of pleasure, something that couldn’t be faked. He wanted that connection to someone—where he could look them in the eye and know what they wanted. It had been missing from his life for a long time.
Yeah, and in a few days it would be gone again unless he stopped her husband from killing her. A new low even for him, sleeping with a married woman.
He pulled out and ditched the rubber in the bin, waiting for the creeping sense of “why do I keep doing this?” to hit, followed closely by the get-out-before-she-asks-for-your-number panic. Without looking at Rachel, he pulled up his briefs and jeans. This was usually where he left, never to see the woman again. Rachel and he were stuck with each other for the moment…and he kind of liked the idea of getting to know her better. She was different to the girls he’d dated in college. She wasn’t a girl, and she wasn’t trying to make him prove his affection.
What was she doing? When he risked a glance at her, she was putting on her bra and shirt.
Did he say something or pretend it didn’t happen? He couldn’t do that. It had happened, and he’d enjoyed it and would like for it to happen again—that thought was quite alien. He shouldn’t be enjoying her company. And yet, why shouldn’t he be? He knew she was only with him because she hoped that he could protect her, but maybe that was enough for him. Her faith in him was what he needed right now. “I’ll clean up in here and then we’ll go.”
She looked at him, her gaze catching on his shoulder. “Glue held, I see.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He meant for the glue, but she paused and looked at him for a moment as if she was uncertain about how to respond.
“Guess I can cross that off my list.” She flicked him a smile as she turned and walked out of the bathroom.
For a moment he didn’t move. He wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened. Did she just brush him off and walk away? Had she just used him for sex? He almost laughed. She could do that to him any time she wanted.
Her heart was still beating too fast and her skin was tingly, alive and awake. If she closed her eyes, she could remember the touch of his hands on her skin and the heat of his mouth. Her core tightened as if she was still enjoying the afterglow—she remembered what that was like—but nothing about what they’d done was gentle or loving. It hadn’t been entirely cold and rough, either.
Desperate.
He’d needed it as much as she had, but she was guessing for very different reasons. She’d slept with another man. Her heart clenched and forgot to beat. It wasn’t how she’d thought it would happen, but it had felt…different. Different good or different bad? It didn’t matter. It was done now.
She repacked Noah’s bag, which she’d dumped on the bed trying to find the first aid kit only to then realize it was in the front pocket. She held one of his shirts, half tempted to lift it to her face and smell it. He smelled nice.
If she was smart, she would be afraid of him. He had power she couldn’t explain, he could do whatever he wanted, and yet he didn’t. He battled along with everyone else.
“Toss me the shirt.”
She turned and he was standing in the bathroom doorway in just his jeans, a trash bag on the floor. They were obviously taking everything with blood on it with them. How long had he been standing there? She threw the shirt at him.
He caught it one handed, his gaze never leaving her. “You were joking about the list, right?”
She should say yes, but that would be a lie and she wasn’t going to lie to the man who had a chance at saving her life. “No. I wanted sex before I died.”
He gave a single nod and looked away.
“He already thought I was cheating. So what does it matter?” She pulled her ring off and tossed it on the floor. “My marriage has been over for months.”
“I know that. I’ve just never been on the other side of the equation. The one being used.” He looked from the floor up to her. “If I hadn’t been here ready to help you out, what then?”
She raked her teeth over her lip, not sure if she wanted to tell him everything that went on in her head and heart, but then, if she didn’t tell him, who would ever know? She wanted someone to know her, and what it felt like to be running from her husband and his demon. How crazy had her life become?
Rachel sat on the edge of the bed. “I started making the list the last night I was in the hostel. In truth, I put you on the list as a bit of a joke…I didn’t expect anything to happen. I didn’t think I’d have a chance, but after seeing you that first time…” That image was firmly burned into her mind. She looked at her hand and the way she was rubbing where the ring had sat. “I’m allowed to dream, and hope and wish. It’s about all I have left. Would I have screwed anyone? No. Does that make you feel better?”
Did his ego really need propping up? Surely most guys would just take what was on offer and not think about it.
“I feel fine, better than fine.” He gave her a small smile that made her heart flip over again. “But we are crossing lines and I don’t want to make a bad call because…because we had sex.”
“Well, I won’t let it happen again.” She stood up and finished jamming things into his bag. He was right. Living was more important.
He touched her arm; she hadn’t even hear
d him approach. When she lifted her head to look at him, he kissed her, his lips lingering on hers but not demanding more. The need and urgency was gone.
“Don’t go to extremes,” he said with a grin. “I was hoping to get a chance at the we-survived-a-demon sex—unless I didn’t meet the grade.”
“You met the grade.” She paused for a moment. “We celebrate at the Icehotel.”
“I’ll buy the plane tickets, you’re buying the drinks.”
He looked serious but she couldn’t be sure. They barely knew each other and he was going to buy plane tickets to an obscure holiday resort? Or did he think they were both going to die so it wasn’t going to be an issue? “Promise?”
He closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a breath, as if making the promise was a weighty thing that needed careful consideration. “Promise.” Then he pulled away. “Find us a new hotel.”
He took his bag, emptied it and repacked, carefully folding each item. Retrieving the first aid kit from the bathroom, he put it in the front pocket.
“When was your last girlfriend?”
He paused and then shouldered the bag. “You aren’t my girlfriend. You’re a client.”
“I know. I just wanted to know. You’re the third guy I’ve ever slept with, but you keep condoms in your first aid kit as though the need for sex is an emergency that can be treated by anyone.”
“Ready to go?”
She stood and gave him her best teacher look. Like any boy caught out, he looked away. That was exactly how he saw sex. Something he could fix. “It was Louise, wasn’t it?”
His last girlfriend had been five years ago.
“Women don’t like guys who were charged with killing their girlfriend.”
He’d been acquitted, but she remembered him saying how hard it had been to find a job. Had he made the same assumption about everything? “You never give anyone a chance. I like you.”
“You have to like me.”
“No, I don’t. I didn’t like Sawyer. He’s too…” Scary and intense were words that sprung to mind. While Noah could flick between relaxed and work immediately, he wasn’t always after something.
“He’s a criminal, he just doesn’t get caught.” He picked up the trash bag and walked towards the door, then he stopped and turned around. He shook the bag. “How can I explain this to someone? The injuries, the travel and late nights. I’m a witch, something people either don’t believe in or fear. At what point in the relationship would I have to explain? First date, second? After we’re engaged? Never? I don’t know how to reconcile what I do with a personal life. Assuming, of course, the lucky lady can get over my dubious past.” He opened the door.
“I got over your past, and I know you’re a witch. Maybe it’s not as hard as you think it will be.”
He glanced at her and shook his head. “Fixing your problem will be easier than fixing mine.”
The room door clicked closed behind her and she followed him down the hallway, not sure what to say. She understood that he wasn’t exactly normal, but shutting himself off wasn’t healthy, either. After Louise, he’d given up even trying.
“Were you a wit—?” She didn’t finish saying it in case people over heard them. “When you were dating Louise?”
“Yes and no. I wasn’t practicing, but I dedicated each game to my goddess.” Noah flicked his wrist. The one that had the demon tracker…whatever that was. “Where are we going?”
She pulled out her cell and typed in Serulean, then compared shops to hotels. “How far do you want to go?”
“I want to stay in New York where I can get backup.”
“Yeah, a couple of blocks, or south near…” She zoomed in on the map so she could read it. “…Greenwich Street.”
He thought for about three seconds, and she wondered what he was weighing up. Was he thinking about spending the night with her? She was. Even though he was damaged, she found him interesting. He didn’t treat her as though she was stupid, he expected her to be part of the team. She liked that and it gave her something else to think about instead of what could go wrong.
“The second option. Pick a hotel and ring to see if they have a room.”
Chapter 13
Noah lay on the bed pretending to sleep. He was pretty sure Rachel was asleep in her bed only a few feet away from him. He could hear her softly breathing. She’d slid between the sheets dressed only in panties and a t-shirt. He was almost sure she’d deliberately taken her time so that he was well aware of what she wasn’t wearing. That coupled with what had happened in the bathroom at the other hotel had left him wide awake. To make things worse, he was fully dressed—which wasn’t helping his mind settle down to sleep.
If thoughts of Rachel were the only thing keeping him awake, that would’ve been okay. He was dressed because he was expecting another attack. As they’d left the previous hotel, the string on his wrist had become warm. If the demon got really close he was sure it would burn. The string was cold at the moment, but that wasn’t particularly comforting. He had no idea how close the demon had to be to make it grow warm.
He glanced across at Rachel. He’d been punched, stabbed and had sex. Today hadn’t exactly gone as he’d thought it would. He sighed, and there’d been an awkward moment when he’d almost invited Rachel into his bed. She’d been thinking it too. They’d looked at the beds, looked at each other, and then gone to their separate beds. If she’d been next to him, he wouldn’t be lying here awake…but he wouldn’t have been sleeping either.
Noah closed his eyes. It was better this way. Simpler. He didn’t invite women into his bed, his life or his home. She knew that. If he was the last person she slept with before she died, she was aiming too low. She could do better. The thought snagged in his conscience. Something that he’d read in the notes that Oskar had given him. Most of it had been copies of news stories about Cory’s career, a few pictures from events with Rachel on his arm. There’d also been a few other bits thrown in, things he’d skimmed over and not given a second thought…until now.
If he was the third, Cory was number two. Noah was willing to bet that Cory knew the name of the first guy she’d slept with. He sat up, grabbed his cell phone for light and opened up his bag.
“What are you doing?” She mumbled as though she’d been half asleep.
“Checking something. What was your first guy’s name?”
“What?” She sat up, her hair mussed around her head like a halo.
He started flicking through a file. It was all about Cory and Rachel. “The first guy you slept with, what was his name?”
“Rob. Why?”
Noah found what he was looking for. Oskar had included a news story about Cory and Rachel’s wedding, and also a snippet about a man who had committed suicide on the same day. A man who’d played football at their high school and would’ve known Cory and Rachel. To most people it would be a freak coincidence, but Noah was getting to know Cory rather too well, and Cory didn’t like other men messing with what he saw as his. “Robert Jones committed suicide on the same day as your wedding.”
“Yeah.” She flopped back onto the pillow.
“The divorce lawyer he thought you were sleeping with was killed.”
He could almost hear the wheels turning and the gears grinding in her mind. “You think Cory killed Rob?”
“I think it’s something we have to consider. Interesting coincidence when you consider Rob was happily engaged and everyone was shocked by his death. You don’t think it’s odd that your ex-boyfriend ended his life on your wedding day?” But it had been years before Cory had grown himself a demon.
“Just how much research did you do into my life?”
“Between me and Oskar, lots. However, I didn’t know you and Rob were connected. Oskar thought the suicide of an old teammate of Cory’s on the same day as your wedding was odd, so he put it in the file.”
“You’re odd.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He put the file back in the bag,
feeling more awake than he was before. Now Cory had a real reason to be gunning for him. Not smart, but when he looked at Rachel, he knew he wouldn’t take it back even if he could. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed sex enough to want seconds with the person. Usually he just wanted a shower.
“You’d take anything as a compliment.”
“That’s because they are few and far between.” People had to be alive to be able to say thanks, great job. He lay back down and turned off his phone.
It was a few minutes before she spoke. “Do you really think Cory killed Rob?”
“Maybe. Do you think he did it?”
“He was always possessive. I thought that was love.”
“Love is not killing your partner’s exes.” He closed his eyes and relaxed. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow will be more exciting than today.”
“I’m not sure how much more excitement I can take.”
Me either. His shoulder ached and so did his cheek. He needed a plan and a lucky break. He listened to her breathing, then his. He let himself drift in a light trance, not awake but not asleep. He pictured his lighter, so real to him he knew every curve and the weight of it, and flicked the catch a few times to see if it would light this time. It didn’t, but it happily sparked. He gave it a shake. It was still empty. What did he want to fill it with? Rachel and the way she’d looked at him in the mirror as he’d fucked her? His lips curved. He’d never forget that. The way she’d pushed back to meet his thrusts, burning off a need to feel alive after brushing death, but it wasn’t quite that simple. He’d wanted her, and he still did.
And she liked him, even though she knew him. She knew more about him than anyone outside of the coven, except his uncle, and she was still brave enough to close her eyes and sleep in the same room as him. His lips curved in a grin.
Could he fill his lighter with memories of sex with Rachel? And what if she didn’t survive and he failed? Would he have to start again and find another fuel for his fire?
