Scorched [Pain & Love 3] (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Ashlei D. Hawley

  He missed his wings, he missed his power, and he was determined to make generations of those responsible for his Fall pay.

  Taking a corner too sharp, Jerry nearly hit a stop sign. He scowled at it and continued to drive, but lowered his speed slightly. It wouldn’t do to get pulled over. The cops would already have their hands full for the night without his minor indiscretions. Thinking about the death and discord Henry sowed made Jerry smile a little bit. The night wasn’t all bad.

  Chapter Five

  When Dan and Lydia reached the Nightcap Bar, Lydia had her door unlocked and open before Dan had even put the vehicle into park. He made an exasperated sound as she slid out and started for the door, her heels clicking importantly on the pavement with her every heated step.

  Rolling his eyes at her dramatic attitude, Dan took his time turning off the engine, putting his keys in his pocket, removing his wallet from the center console, and relocking his door before he sauntered toward the bar.

  Lydia had already ordered a Black and Tan to be made for her. She was a third of the way through it when Dan joined her at the bar. She figured a table would be too personal.

  Even though she’d just tossed on whatever clothing her fingers had touched first when she’d gone outside to confront Dan, Lydia still turned heads when she walked into the room. There were fewer heads to turn as of late. With disappearances becoming a normal occurrence and murder rates soaring, the state government had begun to mandate town-wide evacuations.

  The gloom caused by the town’s current climate of trouble couldn’t take away from the gleam of Lydia’s glorious waves of hair, and the contents of her closet had all been picked because they complimented her gorgeous physique and unique coloring. Even the cast-off clothes she kept in the closet at her sisters’ home were chosen for maximum attractiveness. She’d blindly grabbed a pleated black skirt and a glimmering golden tank top that rolled over her high breasts and slim waist in flattering folds. The red heels she’d added to the outfit were her favorite shoes, comfortable and sexy as hell.

  For just rolling out of bed and throwing clothing on, Lydia knew she was still the most exotic-looking and attractive woman in the establishment. It didn’t make her feel superior, but the knowledge kept her from being annoyed with the men who salivated when looking at her and the women who glared and wallowed in their own insecurities when they compared themselves to someone like Lydia.

  “Women hate you everywhere you go, don’t they?” Dan asked in a pleasant tone as he ordered a Guinness.

  Lydia nodded for a second drink as she turned her golden eyes to Dan and glared at him. “I don’t blame them for it, but we’re not here to talk about how insecure women feel in my presence.”

  “Speaking of insecure, I remember you being a little shyer than you are.” Tipping his beer to his lips, Dan didn’t look at Lydia to gauge her reaction to his comment, which he assumed was a seething glower. They had plenty of time to play word games. He intended to be around her until the threat of the Hunters was eradicated.

  “I grew up.” Lydia spat the single syllable words as though each was a challenge.

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  Lydia didn’t know if Dan’s comment held sexual innuendo, but it was a good bet. She sipped on her beer, tailored her tone for impact, and said, “Does that bother you? I’m sure you’re more comfortable with the younger crowd still. How’s teaching going?”

  Dan didn’t let Lydia’s insinuations needle him. He casually swallowed more beer and looked around the bar. It was a habit of his to be aware of everyone in his vicinity. Anyone could be a Hunter or a special. Though the collection of very late bar goers radiated strong auras, most of them of anger or sorrow, he didn’t sense any immediate threats.

  “I gave up teaching a good long while ago. Conflict of interests.”

  “Ooh, who was she?” Lydia asked. Her snarky tone annoyed even her, so she was fairly confident it would irritate Dan.

  “I never went back after the summer we dated.”

  Lydia was taken aback by the admission, and the calm way Dan delivered it. She assumed he meant for her to feel some impact at the statement.

  “Well, I know you didn’t make enough to retire early. What have you been doing since then?” She wouldn’t let him see her conflicted emotions about the fact that she had been the reason he hadn’t returned to teaching. He didn’t need any access to her feelings or thoughts after so long.

  “Surprisingly, writing.” Dan finished off his beer and pushed the bottle away. Turning to face Lydia, he gave a slight shake of his head to the bartender who caught his gaze and silently gestured to his bottle, inquiring if he’d like another. “I do some reviews. Books, movies, magazines. I work a lot online with short stuff. Articles are my main thing.”

  “Lucky you.” Lydia muttered the words into her beer before she took another drink. She didn’t want to get trashed but definitely wouldn’t begrudge a good buzz. Gesturing for another, she ignored Dan’s look of disapproval and finished off her current drink while waiting for the next.

  “And you?” Dan thought the question sounded bored, as though he asked merely for the sake of polite conversation. To be truthful with himself, though, he harbored a deep interest concerning Lydia’s activities since they’d stopped dating. He knew she’d had no shortage of men in her company, which never sat well with him. Just like he didn’t need food, Dan never had a need to be satisfied physically. Unless he was around Lydia. From the time they met, she’d stoked a delicious fire in him that he loved to let burn. For the first time in years, those flames began to kindle again. He wanted to know her, who she’d become, and easy information could be a first, amenable step.

  Lydia hesitated with her answer, which made Dan more curious to hear it.

  “I model.”

  The quick, quietly spoken words were muttered into Lydia’s cup and Dan almost didn’t catch them. He didn’t know why she would be hesitant to impart that information, so he gave her a cool look and a shrug. “You have the looks for it. Sounds like you’re ashamed about it. Why would that be?”

  Lydia had been caught off guard by his interest in her work life, but she’d managed to regain her aloofness with two more sips of beer. She sent him what she considered her trademark smirk and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

  Her golden eyes sparkled behind her glasses and Dan had a hard time taking his next breath.

  “I’m not ashamed,” she said. “I just thought you might be a little embarrassed to know exactly what goes into my work.”

  “What, are you in porn?” He snorted and relented to the barkeeper’s insistent looks by ordering another beer.

  Lydia laughed, and the musical sound drew both appreciative and unpleasant attention. “Tried it once, but it wasn’t for me. You have no idea the amount of chafing and unrealistic expectations in that industry. But I am in nude modeling. I just don’t screw anyone else for the camera.”

  Dan was surprised by the fact that he’d not been aware of her career and by how upset he was to know of it. He found himself speaking through clenched teeth when he asked, “What do you mean by ‘anyone else’?”

  Lydia batted her eyelashes at Dan, glad their positions of discomfort had been switched. She was being honest about her work and about the fact that her body was the easiest way for her to make money. She wouldn’t stoop to prostitution, though, and stripping was out of the question. For such a graceful creature, she didn’t dance very well.

  Those limitations left her with the option of the work she did for various shady magazines. She preferred the nude modeling, even though she was sometimes requested to take photographs in positions and with props she wasn’t fully comfortable with. She protected her identity, though, and often worked from home. For the money she pulled in, she found herself unwilling to complain about the occasional odd thing she was asked to insert and pose with.

  “Well, I end up doing a lot on my own. I have fun. A lot of the time, I forget the cam
era is even there. No one knows it’s me. I wear wigs and use a false name. It’s exciting, actually.”

  Dan didn’t consider himself a prude by any means, but he had a hard time swallowing the fact that Lydia had basically just told him she was a cam slut. She put her body on display in comprising positions for the anonymous viewers of the Internet to enjoy. How had the shy, lovely girl he’d once loved become this overconfident, shamelessly sexy creature? It baffled him.

  “You’re frowning, Dan,” Lydia observed and finished her second beer. “I haven’t said anything to offend you, have I?”

  “Not at all,” Dan said. “I was just curious how you go from virgin to vixen in a few short years.”

  Lydia snorted and debated the wisdom of a third drink. “A few years. Yeah, it’s been only that.”

  “OK, maybe a few more than a few,” Dan admitted. It was the first time they’d spoken in a decade, give or take a year. Even though it wasn’t going as well as he’d secretly hoped it would, Dan was thrilled to be in her company again. “But my question stands. I thought you had more respect for yourself than that.”

  Lydia’s eyes blazed behind her glasses, and Dan held up his hands, admitting his defeat preemptively to douse her flames. He would have recognized the look if it had been a hundred years since they’d interacted instead of ten. “Wrong phrasing, maybe?”

  “You’re going to want to think very carefully about how you rephrase that question, then,” Lydia warned him as she decided to hell with it and gestured for the third beer. Midway through the bottle’s journey as it slid toward her, Lydia called out for a shot of whiskey. It just felt like a drinking night.

  “What I mean to ask was, is this something you do because you need to or because you enjoy it? From my previous knowledge of you, it just seems to be a surprising career choice. You never wanted people to think lesser of you because of your looks, but you seem to be playing into the assumptions you hated.”

  What Lydia hated at that moment was Dan’s familiarity of her most personal thoughts and opinions. She wondered how honest she should be with him as she paid for her last drink, which ended up being another shot, and made sure to give the bartender a considerable tip.

  “It’s not that I need to do it,” she finally said. “I could make money doing whatever. I’m not dumb or lazy. But I decided a long time ago that I no longer give a damn what people think about me. They’re all going to assume I’m a hooker or something anyway, right? I can’t get away from the stigma of my looks. So if it’s my biggest problem, I was going to be damn sure it became my biggest asset. It’s good money, easy money, and I sometimes only have to work one day a week from home. You can’t command the dollars I do in many other professions for so little input.”

  Trying to lighten the mood and test his boundaries at the same time, Dan reached out one questing hand, wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger. “What color is the wig?”

  Lydia had consumed too much alcohol too quickly. A pleasant buzzing in her head drowned out the voice of warning. She said, “Why don’t you take me home and find out for yourself?”

  Chapter Six

  “Geez, Dan, are you a stalker or something?” Lydia hadn’t needed to tell him where her apartment was. He found his way with no trouble, as though he’d made the trip from bar to complex at least a few times.

  “I liked keeping tabs on you,” he muttered. “Sue me.”

  When they exited the car, Dan sensed the area as far as he could and detected no Hunter presence nearby. They were off causing chaos somewhere, preferring to draw their enemies to their ground rather than to take them out on the other’s home turf. Dan knew he still needed to discuss the threat with Lydia, but that was before she’d gone and gotten herself tipsy.

  “When was the last time you drank?” Dan asked as he helped her up the stairs and then guided her key into the lock on the door of her apartment. Scratch tipsy, he thought as she squinted at her apartment number to make sure it was the right one, even though her key had opened the door. The girl was plastered.

  “Well, it certainly isn’t a nightly occurrence.” Lydia stumbled through her front door and kicked out of her shoes. She tossed her purse onto the slim black couch that hugged the far wall of her living room and squinted at Dan. “Why do you ask?”

  “You were kinda pounding them back, slugger,” he said wryly.

  Lydia waved at him and made a sound indicating she disregarded his concern.

  Dan locked Lydia’s door behind them and observed the wanton beauty. She swayed slightly, her glasses had slipped down her nose, and she kept running a hand through her spill of ruby tresses. The grin she wore was cocky and held the slightest goofy edge as she gestured him toward her bedroom.

  “Follow, and observe my treasures.”

  Dan stood just within the threshold of her bedroom, beginning to feel uncomfortable about the fact that Lydia was well buzzed, if not well on her way to trashed, and he was about to let her get out her sex toys and costumes to play with. He would claim he was only a man, but that wasn’t entirely true. Lydia did dissolve him into the desires that were motivated by simply being male, however. In her presence, he was not a Fallen Angel, not anything beyond the Dan who found himself unable to deny the lure of Lydia. It both scared and aroused the hell out of him.

  In the attic of the house her mother used to own, where Jade and Daria currently lived, Lydia had found a wooden chest. She’d claimed dibs on it years ago and had taken it with her when she’d moved into her own space. Refinished and painted a shiny, smooth black, the chest was half as tall as Lydia and sat on the floor of her closet, taking up the space she would have preferred to have available for shoes. She loved the old thing, though, and didn’t begrudge it the space it occupied.

  The chest opened smoothly after she flipped the latch up and the contents gave her a mixed thrill, as they always did. Part excitement and part embarrassment, the feeling inspired both doubt and confidence in varying amounts. On days when the doubt was stronger, she closed the chest. Those days were few and far between, and this was not one of them.

  Her three wigs sat on the top of her dresser, splayed out like drying T-shirts. She didn’t keep them on Styrofoam model heads as she’d seen others do. The advice given to her was to place them on flat surfaces when not in use and to maintain their upkeep with a special spray and occasional baths in gentle soap and warm water. She took very good care of her wigs.

  After pulling out the first three outfits she touched, Lydia grabbed her favorite wig. It was the color of a tart green apple and fell to her shoulders in chunky waves. Her mass of ruby hair was usually a pain to get under the piece, but the task seemed almost insurmountable at the moment. Securing her hair with a band was fairly easy, but getting it all to tuck neatly up under the stretchy black cap she needed to tame it and flatten it to her head was not working.

  Dan could only watch for a few moments before he stepped in to help. “You don’t need to put it on for me,” he said. “I just wanted to know the color. Very interesting.”

  “It looks better on,” Lydia promised while she continued to struggle.

  Dan took her hands away from her head, taking care to be gentle with her. Leaving one hand around one of her wrists, he reached the other up to pull the cap from her hair. The released strands tumbled down her back, and he used the same hand to draw the band down slowly, making sure not to tangle her hair or pull it. She stood statue-still, barely breathing as he smoothed his warm palm over the back of her head and stroked down the length of her hair. He took the wig from her and replaced it carefully with the other two before he turned back to face Lydia.

  “You’re drunk,” he stated plainly. “You should get some sleep.”

  “Oh, to hell with that,” Lydia said.

  She drew him in by the shirtfront and kissed him. Dan tasted the mix of liquor and beer on her tongue as she swept it into his mouth. Gliding atop the flavors of alcohol was the taste of Lydia, which he could never hav
e forgotten and had yearned for through the years of separation. She murmured her approval of the contact against his lips and pressed herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and nudging him toward her bed with little effort.

  She wasn’t drunk enough not to initiate, Dan thought, and he was too weak to object. Sex hadn’t been the number one priority on his list when he’d contacted Lydia, but he’d be damned further than he already was if he turned it down.

  Lydia broke away from the kiss and pushed Dan back. He fell on the bed and propped himself up on his elbows, wondering what Lydia planned to do with him.

  She leaned forward and licked his bottom lip before biting the plump flesh and pulling it taut. Releasing her hold before it began to hurt, she flicked her tongue over the skin she’d just made more sensitive and whispered, “You taste good.”

  “Well, please don’t eat me,” Dan teased as he caught her tongue between his teeth and pulled her back into him for another deep kiss.

  When they broke away this time, Lydia sank to her knees and unfastened his jeans. As she drew down the zipper, she gave him a sultry look from beneath her full fringe of lashes.

  “You don’t want any part of your body in my mouth?” she asked in a pouting tone as she began removing his shoes. “That’s too bad.”

  She stood and began tugging his pants off. Dan couldn’t help lifting his hips to help her. She peeled away his black boxers as well, and Dan spoke up when she tossed them behind her. “I suppose I couldn’t argue a little nibble or two.”

  Lydia smirked at him. The way he fell for the expression made Dan realize he may have been enamored of the sweet, intelligent girl he’d known almost a decade ago, but he could be fully consumed by the confident, passionate woman she’d grown into.