HeartsandWishes

by Shiloh Walker

  A hard task that lay before him but not an impossible one.

  Rounding the corner, he sidestepped a couple of drunken females and came to a stop by a light post. The light shone down upon a skinny black youth playing a saxophone and swaying to the music and for a moment Lain held still, listening to the sax’s soulful music.

  A bit farther down the street, he saw some children dancing. The hour was late but it seemed as though not a parent was around as the three kids gleefully danced for a crowd of onlookers. Some tossed money into a hat in front of the boys and moved on, while others stood by and clapped, watching with wide smiles.

  Disgusted, Lain turned away and started to cross the street when somebody bumped into him. Turning his head, he saw another unattended youth who mumbled under his breath and tried to bypass Lain. Not quickly enough. Reaching out, Lain caught the boy’s wrist before he could disappear into the crowd and he squeezed. “Not so fast, boy,” he said, squeezing until he could feel the delicate wrist bones grinding together. “My purse, if you don’t mind.”

  The boy’s brows, an indeterminate shade of brown, arched over muddy brown eyes. “I ain’t got no purse,” he said belligerently.

  “You don’t seem to think you’re lying,” Lain murmured, narrowing his eyes. “Curious…” Bending his mind to the boy’s, he reached inside the boy’s thoughts and then he smiled. “My wallet—whatever you wish to call it. You stole from me, boy. I want it back.”

  Eyes wide and dark, face gone pale, the boy stared up at him. He must have seen something he didn’t like because he started rooting through his pockets with a free hand until he found the black leather wallet. Plucking it from between the boy’s grimy fingers, he let go and gave the boy a mocking half-bow.

  Nearly as quickly as an elf, the boy retreated, disappearing into the crowd, fear billowing around him like a shroud. “Peasants,” Lain muttered, tucking his wallet back into his pocket. He was tempted to follow after the idiot child, punish him for his foolishness.

  But something caught his attention. A woman, her hair pulled into a high, messy ponytail, moving down the street with an unhurried grace. Tall, slender, graceful. A man in front of her stumbled, tripped, nearly fell on top of her but she managed to break his fall, sidestep around him and keep moving, all with a feline grace that no mortal possessed.

  She all but shone with power.

  Her…

  Lain smiled. Crossing the street, he fell into step behind her, melting into the crowd. As she turned off the main street, she glanced back over her shoulder and he caught a glimpse of her face.

  Something terribly familiar about her…

  Anticipation boiled hot inside him and he quickened his pace.

  * * * * *

  Holly’s skin crawled.

  It was early yet. Wednesday night, February 13, it was just a little before eight but the French Quarter was jumping. Music played loud, the streets were crowded and the air was choked with the scents of food, too many people, cigarettes and alcohol.

  There were so many people, picking out just one would seem impossible but somebody had picked her out.

  She could feel him watching her. Whoever he was. His eyes drilled into her back with a ferocity that unnerved her. A fine, cool sweat broke out all over her body and she had to resist the urge to run.

  Of course, she had no idea where she would run to. Seemed as though she would be safe as long as she was in the thick of things.

  Paranoid, much? But Holly knew she wasn’t being paranoid, not really. Even when she’d fled the Reach, she’d known her freedom would be temporary. True, she might wish otherwise but she was a practical woman and she knew her father well. That he’d sent men out to find her didn’t surprise her at all.

  But…this didn’t feel like one of her father’s men.

  One of his men would have already approached her and if she knew them, they would do it someplace private. If they did it publicly, she could make a scene and they couldn’t have that.

  No wise elf wanted to draw the humans’ attention.

  Hiding, waiting and skulking in the shadows simply wasn’t the way her father’s men would operate. They would have already made a move on her. But if it wasn’t them, who was it?

  The watcher?

  Goose bumps broke out over her skin as she thought of the presence she’d sensed the past two nights. When his crawling, evil presence had woken her that morning near dawn, Holly had finally forced herself to face an ugly fact.

  Whoever this was, he was searching for her. Specifically. He might not know her but he felt her—the same way she sensed him—and he wouldn’t give up until he found her. As his presence seemed to draw nearer and nearer, Holly acknowledged that it wouldn’t take the man that much longer to find her.

  She had little choice.

  As much as she hated the thought of returning home, she wasn’t about to risk putting her life into the hands of the watcher. He felt too foul, too corrupted.

  Too evil.

  It was time to go home.

  Tears stung her eyes as she turned on to Bourbon Street. If she’d been smart, she would have gone home that morning when fear had pulled her into wakefulness. Or at least sent word. Her father would have had men at her side within seconds. She would be safe. But isolated once more. It hadn’t seemed so much to want one more day.

  Cold, ugly energy reached out, drifted across her neck. Hissing in reaction, Holly sped up her pace. Wanting that one more day shouldn’t have been asking too much.

  “Damn you,” she whispered under her breath, sending another look over her shoulder. She saw no familiar face, saw nothing but the endless crowd and not a one of them seemed to notice her. But the press of evil had gotten stronger and—

  “Hello, Holly.”

  Whipping her head around, she plowed straight into Rhys’ arms. A wolfish grin curved his lips and before she could even squeak out his name, he had lifted her in his arms and covered her mouth with his. Her head whirled as Rhys spun her around. Without taking his mouth from hers, without looking around, he started to walk. The crowd seemed to part for him. Within moments, the noise was already fading as he carried her through the streets, turning seemingly at random. And still, his mouth was on hers, his tongue rubbing against hers, one arm banded around her hips and holding her body weight while his free hand touched every inch of her that he could reach.

  By the time he tore his lips from hers, she was gasping, panting for air and already so damn hot that she thought she might explode. His face filled her vision as she stared at him. “Damn it, Holly, I’ve been out of mind worrying about you,” he muttered.

  He lowered her to her feet and her legs wobbled. Sagging backward, she braced herself against the crumbling brick wall at her back and took a second to look around and try to level out her breathing.

  They were in an alley but it was far from deserted. Halfway down, there were a couple of guys standing around smoking, not even glancing their way. Judging by the smells wafting through the open door beside them, they worked in a restaurant and were using their fifteen minute break to take in as much nicotine as possible. A little farther down the alley were two more people—one man kneeling in front of another. Holly’s eyes popped wide as she realized just why one of the guys was kneeling. He was busy giving the other one a blowjob.

  Blushing furiously, she jerked her head to the other side and looked toward the mouth of the alley. Two more men were there, arguing in low, furious tones. A weird smell tickled her nose and she watched as one man reached into his pocket and brought out something in a small plastic bag, waving it in front of the other man’s face.

  Drugs, she realized. Looking back at Rhys, she asked softly, “How did you find me?”

  A slow, teasing smile curled his lips. She watched, frozen, as he reached up and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the slight point. She had enough human blood in her veins that her ears were just a little pointed, not so very different from the t
ypical human’s. Her mixed blood had let her mingle among the humans with ease. But they were damn sensitive. Holly had never even realized how sensitive until Rhys leaned in and nuzzled her neck, then caught her lobe between his teeth, biting just a little too hard.

  “I dreamt of you last night, precious,” he whispered in her ear. He leaned in, crowding her body back against the wall. Reaching up, she fisted her hands in his shirt and stared at him as he straightened and looked down at her. “I dreamt of you lying in a chair and outside your window, jazz played. I dreamt of you…touched you…” he cupped her pussy in his hand, stroked her through layers of denim and cotton. “Somebody was playing a sax when I pulled you out of that chair, stripped you naked and fucked you.”

  Her face flame hot. Oh damn. That hadn’t been a dream. A laugh pierced the heady, sensual fog that surrounded her brain and she glanced at the men still gathered outside the open kitchen door, men who were suddenly very aware of them. “Rhys, don’t,” she whispered, even as she rubbed herself against his hand.

  His eyes followed hers and he grinned wickedly as he saw the men watching them. Still staring at them, he pulled his hand away. Holly almost sagged, caught between relief and regret but then he touched her again, this time, freeing the button at the waist of her jeans and then dragging the zipper down. “They’re jealous of me, Holly,” he whispered, his voice so low only she could hear. “And curious. People come in here to fuck all the time.”

  He glanced down the alley at the two men—the one standing had his head tilted back, his hands fisted in the other guy’s hair as he shuttled his dick back and forth between the man’s lips.

  “A popular spot for a quick tryst, I guess.” He looked back at her, watched her face as he pushed two fingers inside her sex. “Want to lighten up their night a bit, precious?”

  She shook her head furiously. But at the same time, as he stroked his fingers in and out of her pussy, she rocked against him, riding his hand. Moaning, her eyes fluttered closed when he circled his thumb around her clit. “Hmmmm. Are you sure?” he teased.

  No…but she nodded. Sex in front of others was not her thing. Of course, if he stopped touching her now… His voice whispered inside her mind and she realized she hadn’t been guarding her thoughts at all. Sorry, precious, I can’t not touch you right now. But I’ll get rid of the audience. His eyes burned into hers, the vibrant green swirling, glowing. Dipping his head so that his hair shielded his face, he said in a carrying voice to the men, “Leave.”

  Power trembled in his words and the men, without really even understanding why, obeyed, filing back into the restaurant and closing the door behind them. He glanced down the street toward the other two men but they’d finished their business. The satisfied customer readjusted his pants and the two of them left without even looking at Holly.

  And the final two, involved in the drug transaction, were no longer there. Now they stood in the alley alone. Rhys looked back at her, slowly pulling his fingers from her pussy and then, no warning at all, he fisted his hands in her jeans and tore them away. “I believe I told you that you should start wearing skirts,” he said softly as shredded denim fell to the ground.

  Looking down, Holly stared at her half-naked body. The legs of the jeans were still wrapped around her calves but he hunkered down in front of her and finished tearing the jeans away and then he curved his hands around her hips. “Spread your legs, Holly,” he ordered, staring at her core.

  Widening her stance, she braced her hands against the wall at her back. It didn’t help. She felt as though she stood on a precipice, off balance and unsteady, and then he leaned in and licked her. Rolling his eyes upward so that he could stare at her over the length of her body, through the veil of his lashes, as he bit her clit. Growling against her sensitized flesh, he pushed his tongue inside. Oh damn. She swayed and brought her hands up, her fingers digging into his shoulders through layers of cloth. He licked, stroked, teased and her body, already so starved for his touch, lit up, tensing in anticipation as the orgasm rolled closer.

  When he pulled away, she mewled in disappointment and tugged his shoulders, trying to draw him closer. He caught one leg behind her knee and lifted it, draping it over his shoulder so that the folds of her sex were exposed. “Good enough to eat,” he muttered, pressing his mouth back to her.

  She shrieked as he circled her entrance with his tongue. His hands supported her weight, one cupping her ass, the other curved over her hip. As his tongue started to fuck in and out of her sex, the strength drained out of her body and she sagged against him, forcing him to take all of her weight. He growled—a hungry, masculine sound—possessive, oddly triumphant. The world seemed to dissolve away until nothing but Rhys existed. He stood up, her entire body weight supported against his upper torso and chest, his hands bracing her as he feasted on her wet, aching pussy. She sagged back against the brick wall, her head spinning, her heart racing.

  “Come for me,” he rasped. “Come.”

  As if she had any choice in the matter. His hand shifted, his fingers digging into the seam of her ass. One fingertip pressed against the sensitive skin of her anus and that one touch was enough to push her screaming into orgasm. She threw her head back against the crumbling brick wall, crying out his name, uncaring that people out on the street could hear, uncaring that she was perched on Rhys’ shoulders in a rather unnatural way and uncaring that she was naked from the waist down except for a pair of brown leather ankle boots.

  She came hard and fast and loved every second of it. And Rhys didn’t even give her time for her breathing to slow as he lowered her back to the ground, tore open his jeans and then lifted her, shoving inside her as though he ached for her the same way she ached for him. His cock tunneled through swollen tissues, rubbed against sensitized nerve endings, deeper and deeper until she thought he just might tear her in two. There was no gentleness, no finesse, no caution…and she loved it. He took her mouth and she could taste herself on his lips as he kissed her. Kissed her hard and deep, forcing her head back and she loved that too.

  He fucked her with greedy roughness and every little pain was sweet. “I won’t tolerate you leaving me again, Holly,” he rasped against her ear, biting her, marking her. “I won’t have it.”

  Hooking his elbows under her knees, he held her open, leaning away so he could stare down. “Look at us,” he said harshly, his voice thick, guttural. Obediently, Holly looked downward, fascinated. The light was dim but they saw as well as if full daylight was upon them. He pulled away and then surged forward. They watched as the thick, ruddy width of his cock disappeared inside her pussy. She was stretched tight around him—she could feel just how tightly he stretched her and the sight of it, the sight of him sinking inside her, recoiling, over and over, was so damn erotic. Nothing could possibly make her burn any hotter.

  But then he brought one of her legs up higher, draping her knee over his shoulder and freeing one hand. “I understand why you ran, Holly,” he said and she couldn’t believe how calm he sounded, how unaffected, but she could see his eyes—that burning, glowing green—and she knew just how affected he was. “I know you weren’t trying to leave me…” As he spoke, he curved one hand over her ass, his fingers just so very lightly brushing the crevice between. “But you did leave me.”

  His voice went hard and his eyes turned as cold as ice. “You won’t do it again, Holly. No matter what. You go, I go with you.”

  The breath wheezed out of her lungs as he pressed his fingertip to her ass and started to push. Penetrating the tightly clenched opening, forcing it to yield. She was dry there, painfully tight and it hurt but she couldn’t have asked him to stop any more than she could have stopped wanting him. When he dragged his finger out and started to push back inside, she whimpered, tried to arch away, but even as she did that she found herself needing more, so she pushed down against him. It forced his finger deeper and she wailed, torn between pain and need. “I’ll make you crave me when I’m done, Holly,” he growled again
st her lips. “I’ll make it to where you think you’ll go mad if you can’t have me. To where you think you’re dying inside if you don’t have my cock inside you every day. More than that.”

  “Rhys…” she whimpered.

  “Yes…” he hissed it out, staring down at her. The finger invading her ass withdrew and then started the slow, merciless advance again but this time his entry was a bit easier as sweat and the dewy moisture of her pussy flowed down, easing his way. “You’re mine, Holly. I was the first to fuck you, the first to make you moan and whimper and scream. The first to make you beg. I’ll be the only, damn you. Tell me that. Tell me that I’m the only one you want.”

  Mindless, she clenched down around him. But he stopped—stopped moving, stopped stroking his finger back and forth within the glove of her ass, stopped everything. Fisting her hands in his hair, she tugged insistently. “Damn it, Rhys!”

  “Say it,” he said gruffly, dipping his head to kiss her lightly, softly—so incongruous compared to the hard, hungry body that practically vibrated against hers. “Say it. Tell me that I’m the only one you want.”

  Lifting her gaze, she stared into his glittering green eyes. “Want doesn’t describe how I feel for you, Rhys,” she whispered, her voice husky and tight. A huge knot of emotion had taken up residence in her throat and suddenly, as they stared at each other, a greater ache settled within her heart. If her body throbbed and burned for his touch, then her heart did that and more, yearning for the warmth of his smile, the sound of his laugh and the way he managed to make her feel free, even when she wasn’t. “Most of my life, I’ve wished for some freedom, some sense of normalcy—just a life. That’s all I ever wished for but I’d give it all up if I thought I could have you.”

  Tugging on his hair, she brought his mouth to hers and whispered against his lips, “Make love to me, Rhys.”

  Shaken to the core, Rhys kissed her—gentle, soft. Then he moved his lips to her ear and whispered, “Hold onto me.”