by Emma Roman
She reached up to slide her hand around his nape. “I have a couple of ideas…”
“Tell me.” His hand delved between her thighs. “I’m all ears.”
8
Chico opened his eyes.
Oh, yeah.
It wasn’t a dream. He was in bed with his sexy human at last.
The two of them were entangled together under two blankets and a feather comforter. He might not feel the cold like humans did, but this morning, with an anemic January sun trying to break through the heavy gray clouds, he was happy to stay beneath the covers.
He slid his arm around Jenny’s shoulders and pulled her closer. That was even better. Now his cock was nestled against her curvy bottom.
Last night had been damn nice. He loved how she’d played with him. He was a fada male, and even though he wasn’t an alpha, he was plenty dominant when it came to his women—and he loved to tease. For him, that was the best kind of dominance, tantalizing a woman until she ached for him.
He moved a hand to her breast and teased the nipple to hardness before moving to the other.
“Mm.” She snuggled closer. “Don’t you ever get tired?”
“No,” he said simply. His hand was already working its way down her soft belly to tangle in her wiry curls.
He nipped her shoulder. He could smell himself on her; her skin was infused with his scent. But then he’d been over every sweet, succulent inch of her last night.
She moaned and rocked her hips against his hand. Her ass stroked his cock as well.
He smiled against her skin. She wanted him again.
But he reminded himself that she was a human, more fragile than a fada female. And he’d had her three times last night, once just a few hours ago.
He cupped her mound, his middle finger just barely touching her sex. “It’s not too much? You’re not sore?”
“A little,” she admitted, “but I want it.”
He nudged a silky lock of hair out of the way so he could lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “I’ll be gentle.”
“Not too gentle,” she returned.
“No, I think this morning we’ll take it slow and easy. Like this.”
He stroked his finger over her. Slow…and easy.
Her breath hissed out.
“That’s good?” he asked.
“Very.” She rotated her bottom against his erection, and he stifled a groan.
He slid his free arm under her and stretched her out so she was immobile against him. “Hold still and let me play with you.”
“But maybe I want to play with you.” Her hand snaked back and found his cock. She rubbed her thumb over the cap, and it was his turn to hiss. His groin throbbed and his balls pulled up tight.
He clenched his jaw and stroked her again. “But that wouldn’t be as much fun.”
Her body tightened. The hot scent of her arousal drenched the air.
“No?” she asked.
He slid his finger softly, teasingly, over her. “Trust me on this. Slow and easy can be good. Very good.”
Her breasts heaved. And then she whispered, “All right.”
He inhaled raggedly and proceeded to show her exactly how good slow and easy could be.
The next time Chico woke up, he was alone in the bed, but he could hear the shower running.
He gave a long stretch—and smiled. He hadn’t intended to stay the night, but Jenny hadn’t seemed to mind. And he was glad he had—he hadn’t felt so relaxed in weeks.
He was starting to realize the number Lita had done on him, playing on his emotions, working him with her glamour.
Oh, Lita had kept her energy sucking to a low level—that was part of her contract with him. Night fae could literally drive you insane. They incited anger or terror or depression so that they could feed on it; and if you couldn’t take it and curled into some dark corner of your mind, well, that was just a bonus as far as they were concerned.
But Lord Dion had made sure Chico had an iron-clad contract with Lita to protect him. Lita hadn’t dared feed on Chico’s emotions, but he was pretty sure she’d been up to other tricks.
Jenny came back into the room and the tension he always felt when he recalled those months with Lita eased. Jenny was dressed in her coffee shop uniform—funky black shirt and pants, her hair plaited into its usual thick, shiny braid. She looked fresh and pretty, and smelled faintly of lemons.
“Morning.” He sat up in bed, the comforter down around his waist.
“Morning.” She set a hand on the mattress and kissed him. “Want some breakfast?”
“Sure.” He smoothed a hand over her cheek. The skin was baby-fine. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Good.” She trailed a hand over his bare chest and then smirked. “Actually, I feel awesome. How about you?”
“Awesome works.” He pulled her on top of him and grinned back. “Even better now that you’re back in bed.” He ran his tongue around the shell of her ear.
She gave him another kiss and then levered herself off him, saying, “Sorry—I really have to be at work by ten.”
He reluctantly released her. “Do I have time for a shower?”
“Yep. Pancakes okay?”
“Oh, yeah.”
When he exited the bathroom, there was hip hop playing on the speakers in the living room and the whole apartment smelled like apple pie. He gave an appreciative sniff as he entered the kitchen.
“Apples and cinnamon,” he said, “and walnuts.”
Jenny smiled at him from where she was flipping pancakes in a skillet. “You have a good sense of smell.”
He shrugged. “I’m a fada.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Animal genes. You must sense so many things we miss.”
“Mm.” Coming up behind her, he grasped her hips and nuzzled the side of her neck. “I can scent myself on you, even after a shower.” His animal wanted to rub against her, to enjoy the mix of their two scents.
She turned her head to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. “And that’s a good thing?”
“Oh, yeah. You smell real good with me on you.” He nibbled her earlobe.
Her breath sighed out and she relaxed against him, her eyelids half-closed. Then she straightened up and nudged him with her hip. “Go sit down before I burn something.”
He chuckled. If she was starting to order him around, she must be feeling comfortable with him.
“We can’t have that.” He nipped her earlobe, enjoying how her breath hitched. “Where are the plates?”
“There.” She pointed at a cabinet to her left. “And the silverware is in that drawer.”
Chico set the table and took a seat at one end. Jenny handed him a cup of coffee. “There’s soy milk in the fridge if you want it.”
“Great, thanks.” He poured a healthy dollop of the milk into the coffee and took a gulp before sitting back down.
Jenny took a sip of her own coffee and turned back to the stove. The room was so narrow, she was just a couple feet away.
Chico interlinked his fingers behind his neck and settled back to enjoy the view of her backside in the tight black pants. She’d put on an apron to protect her outfit, and seeing the white bow bouncing above her nicely curved ass threatened to make him hard all over again.
Down, boy. He swallowed and looked away.
“It’s Monday,” he said. “Isn’t the coffee shop closed?”
“I wait tables on Monday. It helps with the student loans.”
“So you work at the coffee shop, wait tables and make jewelry. Hell, when do you sleep?”
She made a wry face. “I don’t have much of a social life. I only moved here in September, and Kym’s the only person I really hang out with.”
“Huh.” He couldn't imagine being so solitary. “Well, you have me now.”
“Yeah?” A hopeful look flashed over her face. Then she shrugged.
“What?” He stood up and wrapped his arms around her. “You think I’m not going to st
ick around?” He moved her braid so he could press a love-bite to her nape.
“Are you?” she asked without looking at him.
He waited for the clench of panic he’d had when Lita had tried to keep him. Hell, he’d felt it when anyone tried to get too close. But it didn’t come.
“Yeah,” he said against her neck. “I think I am.”
“Okay.” She slipped out of his grip and transferred three pancakes to his plate.
He watched, deflated, as she sprinkled extra walnuts on top.
Okay? That was it?
He felt like he’d promised something huge—but then, Jenny didn’t know that.
But that sixth sense he seemed to have around Jenny was warning him to back off. She still didn’t really trust him. He was beginning to think it wasn’t just about him, that someone had hurt her.
He stroked a finger down her braid and sat back down.
The pancakes were delicious. He spread butter on his and waited until Jenny took her seat as well. When he finished the ones on his plate, Jenny coaxed him to eat a couple more. At last he finished his coffee and sat back, replete.
Jenny started to clean up, and he reluctantly rose as well. “I’d better let you go.” He set his plate and cup in the sink.
“I’ll walk you to the door.”
He nodded and followed her into the living room. As he pulled on his jacket, he asked, “When can I see you again?”
He sensed her surprise and frowned. Did she think this was only a hook-up? He’d just told her he was going to stick around—for a while, anyway.
She took out her phone. “I’m free on Wednesday afternoon,” she said with a glance at the calendar. “And I’m off most nights.”
“Wednesday afternoon works. And dress warm—I’m taking you on a picnic.”
“A picnic?” Her brows shot up. “That’s February first.”
“I know. I’ll build a fire, but there’s this spot I think you’ll love—a waterfall, and it should be frozen this time of year. Two o’clock okay?”
“Perfect.” She still had her phone out. “What’s your number, anyway?”
“Don’t have one—sorry. Water fada can’t carry small electronics—not for long, anyway. Something about our biochemistry shorts them out.”
“So, no phone?” She blinked. “I can’t even imagine that.”
He shrugged. “We manage. The base has some basic communication equipment, and in an emergency, I can use a cell phone, but I can’t carry one for long or I’ll short it out. You’ll just have to make plans with me in person.” He gave her a last kiss and opened the door. “See you on Wednesday. If something changes, I’ll get a message to you here or at the coffee shop.”
9
Tuesday morning at Java began with the usual morning rush. Kym was off, so Jenny was working with Tyler, the Java Shoppe’s owner.
Tyler was a redheaded musician from Georgia with a southern drawl and a fondness for flannel shirts. Jenny had liked him from the start. He had a wicked sense of humor and got things done with a minimum of fuss. Once he’d gotten to know Jenny, he’d been happy to allow her to do her job however she saw fit. When things were slow, he got out his guitar and played for the customers.
The rush slacked off around eight o’clock. Tyler went to the back to supervise a delivery, leaving Jenny alone in the shop save for a customer reading the paper on a couch next to the window.
Jenny hugged herself. Chico wanted to see her again.
Maybe Sunday night had been half as amazing for him as it had been for her. She grinned and turned as the door opened.
Some part of her registered that the jangling bells were muted. The rest of her stilled as one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen entered the shop, trailed by a big man in a brown duster.
Jenny stared. The woman was as out of place in Grace Harbor as a Goth at a tea party. She was all in black from her long hair to her expensive little moto jacket to her tight leather pants. Her skin was pale, her scarlet lips the only slash of color.
Jenny’s brow knit. Why did the woman look so familiar? Jenny was sure they’d never met.
The woman sauntered toward the counter, her eyes concealed by dark sunglasses. Behind her, the man in the duster crossed his arms and took a wide-legged stance like a bodyguard.
Okay, this was strange.
Jenny swallowed and looked around for Tyler. Darkness emanated from the woman in a palpable cloud.
In the back, she heard Tyler say, “Coming,” and then a door shut, and she realized he must have stepped outside with the delivery man. Then the customer on the couch suddenly folded her newspaper, picked up her stuff and left.
Jenny was alone in the shop with the black-haired woman.
She straightened her spine. “May I help you?”
Jenny sensed the woman scrutinizing her. The darkness increased, sucking at Jenny like a seething black quicksand. She had to set her hands on the counter to keep herself from falling forward.
She raised her voice. “I said, ‘May I help you?’”
Another silence. Just when Jenny was ready to say the hell with it and scream bloody murder, the darkness receded and the other woman spoke. “Curious. You seem somewhat immune.”
“What?” The woman was insane. Jenny shot an uneasy look at the man in the duster, but he merely gazed back impassively. It was clear there would be no help from him.
She turned back to the woman. “Look, I don’t know what you think I’m immune to, but—”
The woman glanced at the menu board. “I’ll take two cappuccinos to go.”
Jenny dragged in a breath. “Two cappuccinos. Okay. Large?”
A shrug of a single slim shoulder. “Sure.”
Jenny nodded and got out two cardboard cups. Her heart was thumping as if she’d run a race. Her dolphin warmed against her chest, and that helped steady her.
The woman drifted around the coffee shop, fingering the backs of chairs, picking up one of the souvenir cups with a big black J and then setting it down again. She spoke in undertones to the man in the duster, and Jenny knit her brows.
Something about the woman’s husky voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
Jenny snapped the lid on the second cup and placed them both on the counter. “Here you go. Would you like anything else? Some muffins? They’re homemade.”
“No. Just the coffee.” The woman stayed where she was, examining the chessboard Tyler had left on a back table. She took one scarlet-tipped finger and moved the black queen, tipping over a white knight. The piece rolled to the side of the board and stayed there.
“Okay, then. I’ll ring you up.”
This time the woman didn’t even bother to answer.
It was the man in the duster who paid for the coffee with a twenty. “Keep the change.”
Jenny’s eyes widened, but when she tried to thank him, he simply gave a curt nod, and balancing both cups in one large hand, used the other to open the door for his boss.
She sauntered past to the silver limo idling on the corner. The man followed her and handed one cup to the chauffeur who had emerged to usher the boss lady inside. The man in the duster chugged down the other coffee and tossed the cup into the street before getting into the limo after her.
Jenny’s breath whooshed out. Her shoulders sagged and for a few seconds, she stayed where she was, slumped over the counter, sucking in oxygen.
She felt like she’d been slimed. Drenched with an oily black liquid.
Kym burst into the shop. “Do you know who that was?”
Jenny straightened up. “No.”
Her normally sardonic friend was quivering with excitement. “Lita! I can’t believe she was here in Grace Harbor.”
“The singer?” Although to call Lita a singer was like calling Michelangelo just another artist. She was one of the biggest rock stars in the world, with concerts sold out a year in advance. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Don’t tell me you
got to wait on her?”
Jenny watched as the silver limo slid past. She couldn’t see anything through the tinted windows, but she was sure Lita was staring back at her.
“Damn.” Kym gazed longingly at the limo. “I wish I’d been here. I’d have gotten her autograph.”
“Trust me,” Jenny said, “she wasn’t the kind of person you asked for an autograph.”
Her friend barely heard her. “I wonder what she was doing in Grace Harbor of all places…”
Jenny fingered her dolphin. It was cool again. “I have no idea. I don’t think she was even buying the coffee for herself.”
“People say she’s a night fae, but no one knows for sure.”
“A night fae?” Jenny’s stomach lurched. “You mean, like a vampire?”
“They’re not vampires. They suck energy, not blood.”
“Whatever… I think she tried it on me.”
“What?” Kym’s brows shot up. “The energy-sucking thing?”
Jenny nodded. “It felt like a dark pool sucking at me—and I could barely stop myself from falling in. But somehow I did, and then she backed off and ordered a couple of cappuccinos.”
Kym snorted, and Jenny pursed her lips wryly. “Okay, I admit it sounds bizarre. But I swear the woman tried something.”
“Well,” Kym said, “what are the chances you’ll ever see her again? And if you do, run like hell in the opposite direction.”
“Oh, I will.”
Kym hung her coat on a hook at the back of the store and plopped onto a counter stool. “Jesus.” She propped her chin on her hands and shook her head mournfully. “I’ve been working here two years, and the most exciting thing that ever happened was a fire in the trash can—which Tyler put out with the extinguisher, so we didn’t even have to call 911. Take one day off, and a fricking rock star stops by for coffee.”
“Well, hell,” Jenny drawled, “next time I’ll be sure and text you the minute I spot a star—or an energy-sucking vampire, for that matter.”
“You do that.”
“Not to change the subject, but why are you here anyway? Isn’t it your day off?”
“It’s the end of the month. I stopped by to get my check from Tyler.”
