Immortal Kiss

by J. K. Coi

  Baron remembered. Rhys had fallen hard for Amy, but she’d almost been killed and he’d convinced himself she would be better off without him and all the danger that came with the kind of life he led. He’d sent her away, then proceeded to slowly die inside. Baron saw the parallels to his own situation. He couldn’t help but see them, since they were practically screaming at him to stop being such an ass.

  “So you were the one who talked Rhys into going to Amy and begging her to take him back?” Baron asked.

  “Hell, no,” Alric laughed, checking his mirrors again then sneaking in ahead of a rusty old Ford. “I just explained to him what I’m explaining to you—that if you want to stay sane in this world, it helps to have someone who will keep you grounded in it.”

  Is it so simple?

  God, of course it was.

  After all these years, after all the men he’d seen fight and die in service to their country, all the innocent humans who had fallen under the slash of a demon’s claw. After all the brutality and violence he’d witnessed since leaving his family and his heart behind—how could he never have seen before just how wrong he’d been?

  All his excuses about not wanting to horn in on his brother’s girl—while true—were still just that. Excuses.

  Baron had always known Jackson would have understood how Baron felt and even wished him well. He knew this because he knew Jackson was a much better man than Baron.

  Sure, he’d been willing to let Max go, but he hadn’t been able to do it gracefully. Instead, Baron had dropped out of their lives completely, so he couldn’t change his mind the first time he heard Max’s sultry voice, was forced to meet her deep-blue eyes or caught himself ogling her tight ass as she walked across a room.

  For a while he’d kept in touch with his mother and with Jackson through the odd phone call, but that meant shit. The reality was that he’d checked out.

  Now his mother was dead, his brother dying, and Max was a vampire who hated him.

  And what did he have to show for all his misplaced ideals?

  For all his practical jokes, Baron was a bitter, hardened, cynical man. He forced himself to face the awful truth—that he was a coward, afraid to be happy.

  In the back of his mind had always been the rationale that, if someone as good and innocent as Jackson could be made to suffer so much, then why should Baron be allowed to squeak through life unscathed?

  What made him worthy of a forever kind of love?

  Nothing.

  Baron hadn’t ever done anything to merit Max’s love or his brother’s unswerving devotion, and he’d known that if he tried to accept what they offered, the punishment for daring to think he deserved it would be severe. The loss, when it came, would destroy him.

  What he hadn’t realized was that there just wasn’t anything he could do about it. As powerful as he was, as strong and capable and immortal as he was, Baron had no control over those things that had the greatest ability to hurt him, because the damage was already done.

  He was still going to love Max with all his heart, and it still wouldn’t change the fact that he was far from being the kind of person she needed and deserved. Jackson was still going to die young of leukemia no matter how much Baron wished he could take his brother’s place and bear his brother’s pain.

  Now he thought of what losing Jackson was going to do to Max, and Baron knew she needed to go. Surprisingly enough, he wanted to go with her, to be there for her—if she would let him after all he’d done.

  “Shit. What do I do?” He turned back to Alric. “I screwed up so bad.”

  Alric laughed. “You do what all men have to do at some point when they’re involved in a relationship with a smart and righteous woman.” Alric swerved into the right lane and stomped on the gas, flying onto the off-ramp. His crooked grin never faltered. “You get down on your knees and admit you’ve been an ass.”

  * * * * *

  Alric opened the door to find Diana curled up in a chair reading one of her mysteries. She looked at him and smiled, and he felt his heart constrict within the confines of his chest.

  “Hey, princess.” He stripped off his trench coat and the scabbard that held his blade to his back. Diana waited until he was done before rising from the chair to greet him with a soft, warm kiss.

  “Did you find the vampire?” she wrapped her arms around his waist, her head coming only to the middle of his chest.

  “Not yet,” he answered with a sigh. “We found where he’d been hiding out, but he’s already gone.”

  Alric rested his chin on the top of her head and drank in the familiar scent of lavender and lilacs. It was an utterly femininescent that was both perfect for her and a contradiction at the same time. She was soft, she was feminine. His Diana was a girly girl who loved getting her hair done and always made sure her nails were perfectly manicured. She could out-shop Paris Hilton and looked dynamite in a slinky black dress or nothing at all, but would rarely be caught in a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

  Yet Diana was so much more than that too. She had a core of steel that would tolerate no bullshit and she wouldn’t let anyone push her around. She had more courage than twenty seasoned warriors and a sense of right and wrong that could not be corrupted.

  God, he loved her.

  His arms tightened and he lifted her off her feet, ignoring her protests and taking her with him into the bathroom. “I need to shower,” he said. He was coated with an entire mine’s worth of dust and grime. There’d been a point not too long ago when he wouldn’t have been able to bear it at all. Even now, he hated the feeling of dirt in his hair and on his skin. It needed to come off. Now. “Will you join me?”

  Diana smiled, reaching for the holster that held his gun. He stopped her, not wanting her to touch it, and unclipped it from his waist himself. He placed it on the countertop and Diana reached for his belt buckle. “Only if you promise I can wash you,” she answered with a sexy, playful glint in her eyes.

  She unbuckled him and pulled his dirty shirt from the waistband of his leathers. Alric lifted his arms and let her push the cotton up his chest. Her hands burned a path over his abs to his pecs then up his arms as high as she could reach.

  Instead of leaning down to let her pull the garment right off, Alric reached behind him and peeled the crusty shirt over his head, then dropped it to the floor. He grabbed a handful of her pink satin blouse and dragged her closer, leaning down to touch his mouth lightly to hers.

  He needed to be gentle with her tonight. Needed her to know it was all about the love, so that later when he asked her—

  He shook himself.

  One by one he slowly undid the buttons of her blouse, though his hands itched to tear it from her. When the slinky fabric fell open, acting as a gauzy frame for her magnificent body, he groaned and let her see the admiration in his eyes.

  Her breasts were small and perky, her nipples already hard, poking through the tiny gaps in the black lace of her bra. His hands went to her shoulders and smoothed the sleeves down her arms until she shrugged it the rest of the way off.

  He just stood there staring at her until she pressed her body against his and reached up to softly caress the side of his face. “What is it, Alric? What’s the matter?”

  He shook his head. Not now.

  “Nothing,” he lied. “It’s just…you’re so beautiful. You know how much I love you?”

  She sighed, knowing him too well. “Okay, don’t tell me,” she said. He was always amazed by how accepting she was of his moods and quirks. No resentment colored her voice, only loving patience.

  She pressed her lips to his heart and Alric smoothed a heavy hand over her head before he cupped her face and tipped it up to his. “You know how much I love you?” he repeated.

  Her gaze was steady as she met his. “Of course I do.”

  He lifted her and walked her back until her hips hit the bathroom counter. He shoved her black skirt up to her hips and held the firm globes of her ass in both hands as he lifte
d her onto it, forcing his way between her legs so that his heavy erection pressed intimately against her through his pants. With a persistent grind of his hips, he kissed her, slow and deep, his tongue dragging the inside of her mouth over and over again until they were both panting, their bodies hot with need.

  Alric finally forced himself to step back. He wasted no time stripping off his clothes. Naked, he waited as Diana stood and reached behind to the zipper of her slim skirt.

  Her eyes told him how much she was looking forward to this, but she teased, pulling the zipper down slowly and lowering the waistband over her hips an inch at a time. Alric growled in response, fisting his cock in his hand, not even bothering to hide the evidence of his raging desire for her. She smiled sinfully, letting the skirt fall to the ground. Only her black lace bra and matching thong remained. God, he loved it when she wore a thong.

  She moved to take off the bra but he stopped her. “Leave them on,” he growled. She dropped her hands and he stepped to the shower. When the water was nice and hot, he pulled her in with him and pressed her to the wall. The water sluiced over them as they kissed and touched. Alric palmed her breasts, plucking at her nipples through the wet lace, glorying in her little moans and sighs of pleasure.

  “I thought you wanted to get cleaned up,” she teased, her voice breathless and sexy.

  “I changed my mind. It feels too good being dirty with you.”

  She smiled and slid under his arm, leaving him staring at the ceramic tile. “Where are you going?”

  She moved behind him and ran her hand down his spine, her touch slippery with soap.

  He stood still for her as she washed him, taking comfort in her gentle, loving attention. “Bend,” she ordered, and he laughed, ducking so that she could wash his hair. When he was rinsed, she turned off the water and stepped out, handing him a thick towel to wrap around his waist.

  “Hey.” He shook his head vigorously, sending water droplets flying across the room to make her shriek with mock outrage. “I wasn’t done in there.” His plans of taking her against the shower wall were fast disappearing before his eyes.

  “Oh yes you were,” she said with a smile. “The water was getting cold.” Diana wiggled out of her wet bra and panties, and Alric’s eyes grew wider, watching. She slid him a sideways look as she pulled her robe from the hook on the back of the door and slipped it on.

  Diana knew something was up with her man. She wanted him to spill his guts, but after five years she understood him well enough to know he would only do so when he was good and ready. She also knew that whatever was bothering him must be very serious if he was letting her see how much it affected him. If she pestered him and tried dragging it out of him before he felt ready to share, it would be like watching a dry field of brush go up in flames. The outburst of temper would burn hot and quick.

  The better course would be to help Alric to calm down. Something she had no problem attempting, and every intention of enjoying.

  She knew he would follow her out the door and back into the bedroom. A sultry look sent his way and a little twitch of tail would ensure his response.

  It wasn’t their usual sanctuary. The room in the compound was smaller than they were used to, but not uncomfortable. The bed was a queen, and with Alric’s size it seemed more like a twin, but Diana didn’t mind. Anything that kept him close to her was a good thing.

  Sometimes she got so scared for him that if she could have kept him tucked in her bed for the next fifty years she would. He might not appreciate her as much if she was an overprotective fishwife, but if it was the only way to stop him from coming home with blood on his clothes and death in his eyes, it would almost be worth it. She held herself back because to do anything else would mean losing him for sure.

  Turning back, she set her hook, drawing him closer with half-lowered lids, her lips pouty and slightly parted. Diana didn’t play the femme fatale often—they were usually too desperate for each other to bother with games—but tonight she got the distinct impression he needed a little distraction from whatever plagued him, and she intended to do her part.

  “Why don’t you come over here and let me take care of you?” she purred, staring pointedly at the huge erection tenting the towel wrapped around his waist. Diana’s breath caught at the sight of his wide, sculpted chest and the bulging arms, tiny drops of water still glistening on his smooth skin.

  Alric groaned and shook his head. “I can’t handle you teasing me tonight, gorgeous,” he warned. “I need you too much.”

  “Oh, Alric. You’re such a big, strong man, I’m sure you can handle whatever I decide to dish out.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Oh, we’ll get to that.” She chuckled, enjoying herself.

  He laughed and dropped the towel. She was glad to see the devastated look in his eyes starting to fade. “All right, then, woman. You want to play?” His grin was evil, ripe with sexual intent, and so damn sexy her thighs quivered and her core grew wet. “Let’s play.”

  Ah, now this was much better. Gone—at least for the moment—was the brooding Alric, the Alric with a heavy weight riding on his massive shoulders. Instead, if she played her cards right, Diana would be the weight flung over those shoulders in another few minutes.

  His desire was plain as he stalked her across the little room. It didn’t take much—with two strides of his long legs, he had reached her.

  Not to make it too easy on him, Diana lunged across the bed, but she didn’t make it to the other side. She was facedown and he caught one of her ankles in his hand and tugged. She turned over, her robe twisting and riding up her thighs.

  His hand smoothed from her ankle up her leg, sliding the cotton higher up her hips. “You should have run faster,” he murmured, leaning forward, pressing the long length of his body to hers. His warm breath whispered in her ear. “Because I’m not letting you go now.”

  Diana just smiled, putting all her love for him in that smile, all her passion and all her faith in him. She wanted him to know that whatever happened, whatever problems weighed on his soul, she was here to support and to help. “Well, darn,” she teased. “I guess I’ll just have to give in gracefully then.”

  He snorted and bent his mouth to her neck. “Yeah, right,” he murmured with a growl and a soft, teasing bite. “You got exactly what you wanted.”

  “Well, of course, silly. Did you doubt that I would?”

  “Not for a moment.” He lifted her in his arms and stood up from the bed.

  “Wait a minute, what are you doing?” She wrapped her legs around his waist, hands gripping his shoulders.

  He grinned and splayed his hands under her rear as he walked her across the room. “This is me getting what I want.” With her back hard against the wall and her legs around him, he put his mouth to her breast at the same time he slid his heavy, swollen cock inside her.

  “Oh,” she moaned, her body stretching to accommodate him.

  His mouth tugged at her breast, sucking hard, and she ran her fingers in his hair, holding him to her. He pressed deeper, his hips anchoring her in place, ensuring she felt every inch of him inside of her.

  “Alric.” His name was a challenge on her lips. She took from him, all that he could give, and then demanded more.

  His tongue lapped at her breasts, then swirled over her tight, puckered nipples. His teeth nipped at her, teasing. “Alric,” she repeated, pulling on his hair until his head lifted and gazed back at her, his gleaming silver eyes filled with predatory intent.

  She leaned forward, very aware of the tightening of her core around the heated, thick length pulsing inside her. She took his mouth, her kiss wet and desperate, challenging. She dug her fingers into the hard muscle of his shoulders, urging him to give her more. She wanted his tongue in her mouth, wanted her breasts smashed against his chest. She wanted every part of him enveloping her in heat and need as she pushed her heels hard into the small of his back.

  “Diana,” he growled. He was close, she could tell. He
wouldn’t be able to deny her much longer.

  “Now, Alric,” she ordered. “Give it to me now. Hard.” Her voice was thick with her desire. She felt everything. Every throbbing inch of his cock as it jerked inside of her. The almost painful points of her nipples rubbing in the hair of his chest. She felt his breathing heavy on her neck, and the hand that he lovingly ran through her short-cropped hair. “Now,” she repeated, urgent.

  “God, I don’t want to move. I don’t want it to end. Not yet. Just let me—” His body quivered around her and his jaw clenched. She squirmed and arched against him, desperate. Alric moaned into her mouth as he took it in another blistering kiss. Slowly he pulled out, then thrust inside her again. Hard. Oh, yes. So long and hard. Perfect.

  “Yes, Alric. Yes,” she cried, throwing her head back.

  She couldn’t move a muscle, this was all him. His biceps flexed beneath her fingers, his thighs supported her weight, his hips surged back and forth, pressing her into the wall.

  Alric’s lips pulled back from his teeth as he took her, his expression reflecting a combination of torture and pleasure as he pumped faster. Diana could only let her body accept what it was given. She was lost in sensation, drowning in the pleasure centered between her thighs and spreading through her whole body.

  She came apart with a scream moments before he did, her convulsions squeezing him tightly until he shouted in her ear with his own release.

  They remained like that for a few moments, Alric’s forehead pressed against the wall, his chin resting on her shoulder. She loved that he could take her weight like this and make it seem completely effortless. Just thinking about it got her hot all over again, and she tightened her inner walls reflexively.

  Instead of letting her down—which probably wouldn’t have been a great idea anyway, since she doubted she could have stood on her own—Alric carried her to the bed, their bodies still connected, and pressed her into the mattress. She sighed blissfully, loving the feel of him on top of her.

  He kissed the top of her head, and she met his eyes. The return of his drawn, worried expression made her want to weep with sadness. “Will you tell me now what this awful problem is that makes you so melancholy?” she asked.