Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection

by Kiki Howell

  “What do you mean?”

  He shook his head, looking even more frustrated. “I wish...I don’t know. I feel guilty about the past. Angry. And I never know what to do about it.”

  “You’re doing everything perfectly. You’re living an exemplary life, one that history will judge generously.”

  He swallowed, the anger and frustration erased. “That’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to me. And you said it, which means it...it means so much, coming from you, someone who’s lived through history.”

  The words spilled out because she couldn’t keep listening to Aaron, she couldn’t bear to be near him any longer. “I can’t do this.” She shook her head, looking down at the small space between them. He’d done it again, where he kept getting closer and closer. She took a step back as she said, “I can’t—”

  The kitchen buzzer erupted, startling both of them.

  She reached for the potholders and set them on the counter.

  “You can’t do what?” He sounded urgent and panicked.

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t...” She couldn’t finish what she was saying, too occupied by opening the oven. She felt rushed and overwhelmingly sad, knowing she would have to tell him: For her heart, she needed to let him go.

  She grabbed the pan of biscuits but hissed as the hot metal touched her skin. Blam it, she’d forgotten to put the potholders on. The pan skittered to the open oven door as she straightened and watched her flesh grow pink then red and blister.

  “Shit.” Aaron reached for her, obviously not thinking.

  She screamed. Screamed as loud as she could but he wasn’t stopping, not even as she tried, too slow, to step away from him.

  But he’d been too close. Within touching distance.

  He pushed her other hand away from her burns, briefly examining them for himself, and pulled her toward the sink, turning the cold water on and forcing her wounds into the stream. She tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t be removed. Holding her hand in the water, he reached over and turned the screeching buzzer off.

  The silence cut into her, making her hold her breath as she watched him.

  “There. Now I can think.” He turned the water off, examining her fingers with his own, gently touching around the burns. “Ouch. This looks bad. It must hurt.”

  She was shaking by the time he looked up at her.

  “Hurts, huh?” He gave her a sympathetic smile.

  But she shook her head, blinking at him. “You’re not dead.”

  “I—ah—oh!” He straightened and looked down at her wrist. Before she could tell him to stop moving, he jerked away from her. “Jesus, I touched you.”

  Her burns were healing. There was a familiar sense of pressure where she’d been hurt, but she could hardly pay attention to that in her shock. She said it again, “You’re not dead.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not dead.”

  “You touched me and you’re not dead.”

  He panicked and felt along his chest then pressed his fingers to his wrist, feeling his pulse. “I’m not dead.”

  She shook her head. “What does this mean?”

  .

  Chapter Ten

  AARON SHOOK HIS head. “I don’t know.”

  Beautiful Adala blinked a lot. “You scared me.”

  “I’m sorry.” He rushed toward her, but she flinched away.

  “Don’t.”

  He stopped himself just before he reached for her. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

  She swallowed and tried to step away again, but the oven door was in her way. He stepped around her, grabbing the potholders, taking the biscuits from the oven door, and setting them aside as she shut the oven.

  “It could have been a fluke,” she whispered.

  He glanced at her. “Me touching you and not...dying?”

  She nodded.

  He set the potholders on the counter, his heart hammering. This is what he wanted. He wanted her. He wanted to touch her, hold her, and kiss her. He wanted to thank her for being in his life. He wanted to thank her physically.

  Granted, it was easy fantasizing about her. God, he’d been doing that even during group tonight. She was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. And lovely. As well as kind and intelligent and sweet and...the list went on and on, which meant he was not only attracted to her, but he was pretty sure he was falling for a woman he couldn’t have.

  But he’d just touched her, put her now completely healed skin in cool water. She was completely healed. He’d forgotten she could do that. All he’d thought about was taking care of her when she’d been hurt.

  Her eyes were the widest he’d ever seen them, her face pale.

  “Maybe”—he had to clear his throat because he sounded way too excited—“maybe I’m not dead because I touched you. Not the other way around.”

  “But I touched you too. Remember?” After he shook his head, she said, “I tried to push you away when you put my hand in the water. But besides that, I’ve accidentally killed people when they touched me. Remember when I told you about New Mexico and the scientists?”

  He inhaled. “Oh yeah.” He blinked. “So we touched each other.”

  “We did.”

  “And I’m alive.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was breathy. “We can’t do that again.” Instant unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “That was...I don’t know what. But we can’t—”

  “But I want to touch you.”

  She swallowed.

  “I’ve been dying to touch you.”

  She shook her head. “We shouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to kill you.”

  “What if you can’t?”

  She kept shaking her head. “This doesn’t make sense.”

  He understood her fear. And he should feel it too. But he couldn’t. Not in the face of all the possibilities—well, the one possibility that he could touch her without dying.

  She might kill him, hopefully not literally, for taking another risk, but he couldn’t hold back. Not any longer. He lunged for her and grabbed her hand, pulling her closer to him.

  “Aaron!”

  He laughed when she bumped against him. “I’m still not dead.” Maybe too fast and jerky, he held her arms, slid down to her tiny waist, and wished he could squish her into his skin, as weird as that sounded. He was just so happy to touch her he could hardly think straight.

  She pushed at his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have—”

  “But I should have.”

  She laughed and relaxed, finally getting rid of her terrified face. “I...I don’t understand.”

  He smiled and hugged her. Nothing in his life had ever felt this good. He couldn’t compare it to anything. God, to feel her in his arms...God. He was shaking with how happy he was, feeling her strong body against his, her arms tentatively holding his waist, her head nestling against his shoulder. This was heaven.

  He shouldn’t ruin it by wanting more.

  Oh, but he wanted so much more. “Adala?”

  “Yes, Aaron?”

  He licked his lips, looking down at her. In his arms. He could hardly believe he was holding her, but he was. Her body was firmer than he’d imagined, hotter, skin so soft all he could think about was nuzzling it. “Can I kiss you?”

  The shock on her face stopped him from leaning down and capturing her lips against his.

  Shit. He’d read her wrong.

  He’d watched her carefully over these last three weeks. He’d thought he caught her looking at him, his chest, his legs, with a certain duskiness painting her cheeks, making her eyes bright and glassy. He’d thought he’d seen her pupils become huge whenever he’d get close. God, he’d thought all of that equaled a similar attraction.

  She inhaled, licking her lips. He wished she hadn’t done that. That was too...his whole body responded by feeling a liquid energy course through him.

  “What do you mean kiss me?” Her dark brows furrowed. “What...what
kind of kiss?”

  Well, fuck it. He was going in.

  He bowed his head and softly swept his lips against hers. Pulling away from the smoothness of her mouth was almost impossible, but he didn’t want to be an imposing ass.

  It could have been considered a chaste kiss, it had been so quick. Except for the fact that his body was lighting off signal after signal to try to keep kissing her, to hold her closer, to feel her body completely against his.

  She released a wispy breath, her delicate fingertips touching her lips. “I’ve never been kissed before.”

  Well, he hadn’t thought about that. It was an intimidating fact, that he was her first kiss. And he was pretty sure he had chapped lips. Damn. He should have thought this through more, should have prepared for...But he’d never thought he’d get this opportunity.

  He swallowed. “I’m sorry. I should have—”

  Her arms flew around his neck and pulled him down to her, her mouth already pressed against his. He grunted and tried not to smile. Or laugh. But, God, he was happy. She just glued her lips against his, but this was the best kiss. She tiptoed closer, her arms holding him even tighter, her belly fitting against his, her breasts against him. He wanted to groan his approval of her body so flush against his, but he was a little scared of her reaction.

  Not for the first time, he thought of touching a wild creature, and worried what to do with her.

  They remained lip-locked for about a minute when she pulled away, huffing. “There’s more to kissing, isn’t there? I’ve seen movies. People kind of move their lips. Kiss me like that.”

  He blinked and couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. “You sure?”

  She nodded, her smile the biggest he’d ever seen on her face. “Yes, please.”

  God, the please nearly killed him. So sweet. So sexy.

  His heart felt light, and if someone took an X-ray just then, he would have been surprised if it hadn’t glowed. He felt so good. So happy.

  So he obeyed.

  Bowing his head again, he open-mouth kissed her, sweeping his lips across hers again and again. She took a beat, but then her lips responded, mimicking his movements. He tunneled his fingers through her long, black, silky hair, holding onto her nape. She moaned, which felt like a kick in the gut. The fact that she liked something he was doing made him so thrilled he was just on the cusp of pain.

  He held her closer, ensuring her flat stomach was against his as his other hand found the small of her back, spreading his fingers wide.

  She stopped kissing and glanced at him, blinking, looking a little confused. Her lips were pinker than normal, swelling. She looked so beautiful that he had a hard time breathing for a moment. She glanced down at their bodies pressed against each other.

  He’d gotten semi-hard, a little too excited, forgetting she’d never been kissed before.

  He tried to pull back because he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. The fact was, he’d never been with a virgin. He’d never thought about it because he liked women who were older and more experienced. Well, he got that and so much more. Except, of course, she’d never been kissed, and reason told him that meant she was probably a...

  Wait.

  Maybe she wasn’t a virgin. There were people who had sex without kissing. Were dísir the kind of people who had sex without kissing? And how to ask something like that?

  She grabbed him in a tight hold, ensuring her body was still flush against his. He nearly groaned and was getting too excited for a first kiss.

  Flinching, he gauged her reaction as, yes, now he was getting really hard.

  She smiled, her breathing fast, her cheeks glowing pink. “Fascinating. I had no idea...I mean, I know. I know about male anatomy. But I’ve never...can we keep kissing?”

  He swallowed, softly chuckling, feeling a little embarrassed because the more he was pressed against her, the harder he was getting. And kissing her wouldn’t relieve him.

  But she was his princess, and he’d do anything for her.

  He nodded. “Yeah. Is it good?”

  She shimmied a little, up and down his body, saying, “Mmm.” It was a small movement that had him groaning and trying to shy away from her as his cock gave an embarrassing performance. But she held him tight, adding, “I love it. I love kissing you. Is it good kissing me?”

  “So good.”

  She beamed. “I’ve daydreamed about kissing you.”

  He nodded, bowing his head back down to hers. “Me too.”

  “Have you?” Her voice was breathy, sensual.

  “So much.”

  “Me too.”

  He kissed her again. Only this time, not quite as gently. His lips had a purpose, even if his brain was telling him to slow the fuck down. But he kept sweeping his lips against hers. She matched his motions and added her own fuel to the fire, speeding the movements faster, pressing her lips against his all the more.

  He kept his lips open, urging her to do the same. When she did, he swept his tongue in her mouth.

  She pulled away and looked at him again.

  “Too far?” He cringed, awaiting her verdict.

  “That’s French kissing, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled. “I really liked it.”

  “Thank God.”

  She lifted to her toes again, coming at him fast and powerfully. He opened his mouth in time for her tongue to slide into it. Wow, she caught on quick. Soon they were thrusting their tongues against each other, parrying. He swirled his tongue around hers, and she swayed into him, moaning again.

  Her nipples contracted, beading tightly against him, making him want to reach up and cup her, ease her ache. But he did his best to keep up with the French kiss. He thought it was adorable that she had to label it before she’d do it herself.

  He swirled his tongue around hers again, since she seemed to like it, and she shuddered. She pulled him even closer, her arms getting so strong they almost hurt. Then, suddenly, she burst away from him, panting for breath.

  “I...I feel so weird.” She touched her stomach.

  He reached out, holding her hand. “Are you sick? Did I make you sick? God, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have used my tongue.”

  She smiled. “No, not...that was good. Wonderful. I loved it. I just”—she trailed her fingers around to her back, one of her shoulder blades, scratching and wincing at the same time—“I have to go.”

  “No! We don’t have to keep kissing.”

  “But I like kissing you.”

  “So do I.” He leaned in, glancing at her glassy eyes. The odd thing was, he could have sworn they were glowing. Her gorgeous hazel eyes always had light in them, but at that moment it was like they were radiating out light.

  He blinked and she pulled away even more. “I’m sorry, Aaron, but I have to go.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “Can I come back tomorrow and kiss you again?”

  He nodded. “I’d like that. Are you sure you don’t want to stay and eat with me?”

  She touched her stomach again. “I can’t eat...I feel...different. I’m so sorry. But will you let me come back tomorrow?”

  He leaned down and quickly, chastely, kissed her lips. “Yes. If you feel better soon, come back. I’ll be here. Come back to me.”

  She smiled and kissed him once more, moaned, and backed away like she was drunk. He walked her out to Gus, glad the Pegasus would fly her home but worried she might fall off. She looked...not sick. Her skin never looked so luminous, and she had great color to begin with. But she did look...off.

  Come to think of it, he felt a bit odd too. Not that anything was wrong. But it felt so fucking right. Too right.

  Mack had carried on at group about how fairy tales are dysfunctional, how it sets us up to hope for happy endings.

  It was an ironic lecture, considering he was kissing a woman who used to have wings.

  Chapter Eleven

  ADALA LANDED IN Aaron’s backyard on Gus with
a thump. He was excited, feeding off her own excitement. All day she couldn’t wait to see Aaron again and there he was, smiling at her, with a bucket of sweet oats. Immediately the Percheron-like Pegasus lunged for the bucket, making Aaron laugh. He ruffled Gus’s mane as Adala jumped off the horse.

  She didn’t know what had happened last night—the odd almost painful sensation running down her spine, through her shoulders, even through her stomach. She’d Googled it. Being pretty sure she wasn’t experiencing a pancreatitis, she figured...she was just really turned on. Which made sense, considering she hadn’t ever touched a man before. More than nine hundred years of waiting and maybe her body was simply bursting for the intimacy.

  Yes, intimacy. Because—eee!—she’d kissed Aaron!

  “Had a good flight?” His voice was warm and low. He had no idea what that did to her.

  She rushed to him, scared if she didn’t touch him now, she’d lose her nerve. Attacking him hadn’t exactly been her plan, but she lunged at Aaron with the same enthusiasm Gus had for sweet oats. Aaron hadn’t been expecting her to embrace him with so much of an impact and was easily knocked off balance. She tried to right both of them, but when Aaron let go of the bucket, Gus happily moving wherever the oats went, Aaron fell with her in his arms.

  She laughed. He laughed. They both smiled at each other as they landed on the soft grass of Aaron’s backyard.

  “I’m sorry,” she huffed, liking being on top of him. He was so...different now that she’d kissed him. A different creature. He wasn’t just her friend. He was more, and he was a man. Such a beautiful man. He was hard with flat planes and yet rounded curves too, like his iron-tough pectorals, which she thought of running her hands over.

  He chuckled. “That’s okay. You happy to see me?”

  “So happy. And I can still touch you.” She straddled him, sitting on his flat stomach, her dark tresses fanning around them as she braced her arms on either side of his head.

  “Yes, you can. I’m not dead.”

  “You’re not dead. That makes me so happy.”

  He softly chuckled again. “I’m glad me not dying makes you happy.”