I let out a breath and put my gun away as Joaquín stepped out of the shadows.
“Wilson called me.” His long strides ate the ground between us until I was wrapped tightly in his arms. I knew that Wilson calling Joaquín was his way of watching over me and right then I just didn’t care. I folded my arms to my chest and let Joaquín hold me. He took my purse then dug through it and pulled out my keys. I heard Donovan as he quietly left, the crunch of gravel from the driveway as his car retreated.
I let Joaquín lead me to my bedroom, then walked into the bathroom. I grabbed his arm when he turned to leave. I didn’t want to be alone. “Please, stay here…”
He cut me off by placing his finger across my lips. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
“Thank you.” I walked into the bathroom and shut the door. One glance in the mirror showed my eyes swollen, red and tearful. I washed my face and stripped off my clothes and weapons. I took a quick shower, but allowed myself a few moments to let the hot water beat the tension out of my knotted shoulders. I put on the loose yoga pants and tank top I’d left on the floor that morning, then walked back into the bedroom.
Joaquín lay on my bed, propped up by the pillows. There was a time when seeing him there would have sped up my heart rate and sent my hormones reeling. Was it the grief or something else that numbed me?
I walked toward the bed, my shoulder holster dangled from my hand. I threw back the covers, pulled my gun from my holster, checked the safety and tucked it into the holster attached to my bed frame.
“I’m sorry…” I began.
He sat up. “You don’t have to apologize for your emotions, Leah.” Joaquín stood and placed his hands on my shoulders.
“Well thanks, but I’m fine now. Thanks for staying, but really, I’m just going to get some sleep.” I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to have my impending emotional breakdown in front of him. I didn’t like to show my own weaknesses.
“You always were a bad liar. I know you better than that.” He plopped back down on my bed. “You know you don’t always have to be a hardass. It’s okay to cry.” He stroked his thumb across my cheek and I fell into him.
Joaquín handed me a box of tissues. I laid my head on his shoulder and cried. I don’t know how long he held me like that. I cried until I had no tears left and all along Joaquín rubbed slow comforting circles on my back.
When the tears finally dried up and I had wiped my face with the last tissue, I took a long drink of the water Joaquín had retrieved for me.
I stood and pulled together whatever dignity I had left and walked into the kitchen, propping myself against the counter.
He followed me into the room silently, pulling off his now tear-soaked shirt. He was well built and his chest was broad with just a touch of that dark hair scattered across it. His dark almond eyes were intent on me. His hair framed his face, his expression full of concern and … something else.
I was tired and emotionally drained. I didn’t like feeling so vulnerable. Joaquín’s eyes seemed deeper, slightly hypnotic. “I’m more tired than I thought. I think I’ll go to bed. You can let yourself out, I’ll be fine,” I said dismissing him.
I walked back into my bedroom. He followed a step behind me. Once inside Joaquín grabbed my hand. “I don’t want to go home,” he said gently. He lightly touched his lips to mine.
“I can’t do this,” I protested.
He slid his hands to my shoulders, his thumbs caressing my chin. “I think you need this too.” It was a statement, full of confidence.
He didn’t give me time to protest. This time when he covered my mouth with his there was urgency.
Not love or passion … but need. The need to touch, to comfort. The need to feel alive. “Joaquín…” I pulled away from him, shaking my head slowly.
“Why?” He spoke against my hair.
What I wanted to say was that I had already given my heart to someone else, and I hadn’t gotten it back yet. I didn’t know if I ever would. Instead I said, “I just can’t.”
Joaquín had his eyes locked on mine. “It’s him, isn’t it?” His voice was a mixture of pain and anger.
Ian had my heart. I couldn’t deny that. I gave it to him, and he used it for revenge. He’d never really loved me. Had he?
I’d given my heart to Joaquín once too. Had he ever really loved me? I felt tears sting the back of my eyes and swallowed hard. I didn’t answer for fear my voice would crack and give me away.
Finally, Joaquín broke the silence. “Then let’s just take this moment. This one moment to celebrate life.” His voice was smooth and rich as velvet. He shifted and placed me between him and the wall.
As his lips moved down my jaw and onto my neck, my thoughts of resistance vanished into a silky haze. Maybe Joaquín was right and I did need the comfort. It hurt my head to think that hard. so I let my hands trail across his shoulders and down his lean back. I felt his muscles tense and release beneath my touch as I traced my fingers to his waist. My head fell back as he continued down my neck and to the mound of my breast. He pulled my shirt over my head and stood back to look at me. “Beautiful,” he murmured before his mouth continued to explore me, first one nipple, and then the other. Joaquín’s mouth blazed a trail down my stomach. I shook my head. Something wasn’t right, I felt a little lightheaded, off somehow. He brought his mouth back to mine. I felt another push at my mental shields and ignored it as my hands wound around the front of him. I played with the delicate hairs on his chest and followed the line down his stomach. When my fingers reached the fly of his jeans and popped the button open, he groaned. Dropping to his knees, his tongue circled my navel, sending shivers of delight through my body. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of my yoga pants and started to slide them over my hips. His hands cupped my ass, kneading and caressing under the fabric of my pants. I felt like I should resist. I didn’t want him but I had to have him. He slid my pants down, letting them pool to the floor. I could hear my own heart beating in my head. His tongue traced a path back up to my neck and I reached for his zipper and ever so slowly started to ease it down.
On a gasp he stood, lifting me into his arms, and crossed the room to set me on the bed, all the while keeping his mouth locked with mine. His tongue slid erotically across every part of my mouth, filling me with the taste of him as I lay back on the bed with him hovering above me. My hands urgently found the waistband of his pants.
He pulled his head back and his breath was soft and warm upon my cheek as his eyes searched my face. “God you are so beautiful, Leah.” He sucked in an unsteady breath and hesitated. Something in his voice made me shift to look up at his face. I saw an odd expression of satisfaction mixed with … disgust?
“Why that look?” I sat up a little.
He blinked at me, as if his mind was somewhere else, then rolled to the side, pulling me with him so that I lay with my head on his chest. “I don’t want to ruin this, Leah.”
I angled my head. “Ruin?”
He sighed heavily and his eyes glazed over. I knew that expression. He was trying to decide if he wanted to tell me what he was thinking or blow over it. “It’s … nothing.” Apparently he was going to blow over it.
I arched a brow and gave him my “bullshit” look in return, then shifted, putting a little more distance between us.
He pulled me back to him but I was no longer relaxed. I felt my body stiffen. He spoke softly but I could feel his jaw clenching against the top of my head. “I just…” I felt his chest rise and fall as he took in a deep breath then blew it out again. “I’m trying to get past the idea that you let that monster put his hands on you.”
His words were filled with quiet venom and clawed down my spine like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“You want to talk about who was sleeping with whom?” Anger burned the back of my throat.
Joaquín reached for me. “I know you hide your insecurities behind a tough façade. But really, he’s not even alive.” He stroked his hand
up my arm. “It okay, Leah. I forgive you.”
“You? Forgive me? At least I had the decency to wait until after we broke up!” I clenched my thighs together and pulled the sheet around me as I slid toward the end of the bed. I suddenly felt dirty. No, more than dirty, I felt tainted.
“I told you, she meant nothing to me.”
I jumped out of bed. clutching the sheet with me. “That’s what’s always bothered me the most, Joaquín.” I fought against the lump forming in my throat, threatening to block my words.
He looked startled and confused.
“If you were going to throw away the life we were supposed to make together then she should have meant something to you.” I turned and paused at the bathroom door. “Just leave.”
He was out of bed and standing in front of me. “I’m sorry. My God, I didn’t mean…” He rubbed his knuckles across my cheek and the first hint of dampness from my tears. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed me gently. “I’m sorry.” He dipped his head toward mine again, taking my lips possessively.
I was torn between wanting to believe him and the torn piece of my heart that had loved him. Could we still make a life together?
Maybe.
I just didn’t know anymore.
A bang on my front door froze us both in our tracks.
“Don’t answer it,” he said huskily. His mouth went back to my mine, his lips sucking gently.
Another bang at the door.
With a groan Joaquín took a step back, placed another light kiss on my lips and said, “Hold that thought, will ya?” He walked out of the bedroom.
I retreated to the bathroom and quickly pulled on a pair of pants, then bent down to pick up my shirt. An ache blossomed behind my eyes. I began slipping my arms into my shirt when I heard the splintering of wood. Forgetting my shirt, I leapt for the bed and pulled my gun out of its holster. I whirled back around and flipped off the safety while I eased myself around the partially open bedroom door. I could see the back of Joaquín as he stood in the front doorway, shirtless, bare feet spread apart, hands clenched into fists, and his jeans hanging loosely around his waist from when I’d unbuttoned them.
“Move to the side, Joaquín,” I called. As he shifted, I heard a low familiar growl. I stood with my gun aimed at the front door and my shirt hanging on only my arm facing a very, very angry vampire.
Chapter Seventeen
Lights flickered in a strobe effect. Ian flicked out his arm, in a motion meant to shoo away a pesky fly, a flash of light gleaming from his hand that sent Joaquín flying across the room. Joaquín landed with a large thud, leaving a huge indentation in the drywall.
Damn, the landlord was going to be pissed about that.
Joaquín bolted to his feet. I crossed the floor and placed my left hand on his chest, leaving my gun hand free.
“Get out of my way, Leah,” Joaquín growled as he tried to push past me.
“Joaquín, don’t,” I ordered with more confidence than I felt. To my relief, he stopped, his whole body going rigid. The only movement was his fists clenching and unclenching, a look of barely controlled fury on his face. The lights stopped flickering and the sound of a bulb shattering into shards of glass and tinkling onto the table below it sounded deafening.
I took a few wary steps back and turned to Ian. “If you’re done with your temper tantrum, Ian, would you mind leaving? I’ve had a bitch of a night and I’d like to go to bed.”
Ian arched one eyebrow up in annoyance. “So I see.” He motioned toward Joaquín and me with a sweep of his arm. “It would seem I have interrupted your … preparations.”
I realized that I was completely topless and crossed my arms over my chest. I turned my back to both of them and pulled my other arm and head through the shirt that was hanging limply off me.
“No need for modesty now, My Love. I am sure we’ve both already had a good look.” There was an edge of menace to his voice at the last.
Joaquín stood a couple feet away and I felt the anger swirling through the room. The ache behind my eyes turned into a full-blown migraine. I knew my shields would come quickly tumbling down, leaving me even more open to the emotions spinning around the room if I didn’t get some distance, away from both Ian and Joaquín. I felt the blush creep up my face and knew I was practically crimson when I turned to face them. I tried to pretend I wasn’t embarrassed about being caught with Joaquín. After all, Ian and I were through.
Joaquín moved closer to me and put his arm around my shoulders. I winced, something felt wrong, but his meaning was obvious.
“Mine.”
Joaquín was claiming me as his and I was pretty damn sick and tired of testosterone-induced possessiveness.
In a blur of speed, Ian stood before me. Joaquín had tried to block his path but was nowhere near fast enough. Ian shoved him aside, which left another blazing hole in the freshly painted walls.
“You are openly challenging me, young one,” Ian all but growled. “Be very careful whose dominion you tread upon.”
I was tired and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be treated like a piece of real estate. “Get out! Both of you!”
“Leah…” both Ian and Joaquín protested.
I held up my hand to stop them. “I’m done. I want you both to leave.”
Both men stood there glaring at each other in a mental game of chicken. Neither would be the first to leave.
I let out an exasperated breath. “Fine. I revoke your invitation to my home. You are no longer welcome here. Leave!”
I looked at Ian, still standing in front of me with an amused smirk causing one dimple to glint lightly on his cheek. Confusion furrowed my brow, which only caused the pounding in my head to increase. “Why didn’t it work on you?” I asked Ian.
“Among other reasons, you underestimate my abilities,” he said arrogantly as he took a step closer.
Ian shifted himself between Joaquín and I. Joaquín threw a punch that barely skimmed Ian’s cheek. Ian grabbed Joaquín by his neck and pushed him back against the wall. Sweat broke out and began to trickle down Joaquín’s face. His breath was coming in short rasps. He kicked a leg out to the side just enough to make contact with Ian’s shin but he did not let go of Joaquín.
“She’s deserves better than you!” Joaquín said disgustedly.
Ian was holding Joaquín against the wall as if it were no effort at all but I could see Ian’s muscles twitching just below the surface of his taut skin. I knew if he really wanted to, he could have snapped Joaquín’s neck with a twist of the wrist. While he held Joaquín tightly, he was allowing him to breathe normally. Ian arched a brow and pinned Joaquín with a look of anger mixed with amusement. “You believe that you are worthy of her?”
Joaquín’s eyes cast downward for just long enough to let me know Ian had hit upon his insecurity, then he lifted his chin in defiance. “Better than you,” Joaquín grumbled hoarsely.
Ian’s grip tightened and Joaquín began to struggle for air.
“Let him go, Ian,” I spoke softly with just enough threat in my voice to have Ian turning toward me to find my gun aimed directly at his head.
His grip loosened and Joaquín sucked in a large breath of air. “You would shoot me, My Love?” A little of the arrogance slipped from his face. “You would shoot me to save young Joaquín?”
“I will blow your fucking head off if you don’t let him go, Ian. I’m a SINS Agent and I will not allow any vampire to take a human life.” That much was true. I would kill Ian if I had to. I also knew it would kill a piece of me to do it. I shifted to a two-handed stance, keeping my aim at his head, my hands completely steady and my body filled with resolve to do whatever was necessary.
“Aim for my heart, My Love. It is already wounded and would be easy prey.” Ian was still holding Joaquín against the wall but his grip was loose. He angled his head to the side and looked at me as a cat might look at a bird before he pounced on it. “I believe you would shoot me, My Love. Is it loaded with silver?”
/>
I gave him one short nod and prayed he wouldn’t force me to prove it to him.
“I have no wish to upset you.” He turned back to Joaquín. “If I release you will you attack me?” His voice was condescending, almost mocking. He let him go and stepped back.
I carefully moved closer to Joaquín. He stood still with his hands balled into fists at his side. “He’s a walking corpse. What the hell did you see in this monster?”
I sucked in a sharp breath of surprise. “I want you to leave now, Joaquín.”
He turned surprised eyes to me. “I can’t leave you here alone with him, not like this.”
I holstered my gun and closed the remaining distance between us. “Joaquín,” I gave him the “duh” look, “he doesn’t want to kill me. I am perfectly safe.”
Joaquín unclenched his hands and ran them up my arms. “He does. Don’t you see that is the only way he can keep you forever?”
The intensity behind his words took my breath away. I hadn’t really thought about forever. Even if Ian and I got together, I would grow old and die. He would not. I filed the thought away in the shit-to-worry-about-later box in my brain.
“I’ll be fine. Go home.”
He brushed his lips across mine and I couldn’t will my body to respond. “You can feel that. I’m alive, warm.”
“Stop it.”
He gripped my arms tighter, almost to the point of pain. “His body is cold and dead. Is that what you really want?”
“Get out! Get the hell out.”
He stormed to the door, grabbing his shirt on the way and slamming it as he left.
I turned to Ian. He stood in front of me, his face a mask of arrogance. He wore his pirate boots pulled up to the knee of his tight-fitting jeans. His button-down shirt was somewhat rumpled from his scuffle with Joaquín but it was opened enough to let few dark curls poke out. His black hair hung loose and wild around his head and his sapphire eyes sparkled like the night sky just before the darkness swallowed the last bit of sun. The man could make me think of sex even when I was mad as hell. Or maybe it was just residual lust left over from Joaquín?
The Order of Chaos Page 7
