by Jaime Rush
She searched the room. Was Magnus being serious about them just popping in? After what she'd seen, she would put no amount of weirdness past reality.
Some of that weirdness was how she was watching the bathroom door waiting—no, anticipating—him coming out. In the short time she'd known Magnus he'd been flirty, sexy, scary, determined, and protective. He would have been better off leaving with Lanna and saving his own ass.
It's just the way I am.
Her breath hitched, but she pushed those wayward thoughts from the edge of her mind. She wandered to the mirror and flicked on the light. She could hear the water hitting Magnus's body, so he was still busy in there. She stripped off the shirt and studied her reflection. Something in her eyes looked different, a light she had never seen before.
She forced her gaze to her upper body. The new scars were red and burned, and they now covered her shoulders. Before today, they had come up to her biceps. Before today, she'd been all right with dying. But now the reality stared her in the face: the electrical shocks were growing closer to her heart, the same way an infection moved through the veins.
She was so immersed in her thoughts she hadn't been paying attention to the sounds of the shower. Or lack of them. The door snapped open, and Magnus stepped out—and halted.
She wasn't sure if it was the sight of her naked body or the scars that put the stunned look on his face. She held the shirt to her chest. Her mouth opened but nothing came out but a strange squeak. He looked gorgeous, his waist wrapped in a flimsy towel with a slit up the side that showed his muscular thigh. He was holding the towel together with his fingers.
“You alright?” he asked, coming closer.
She turned away, unsure how to accept the concern she heard in his voice. Nobody had cared about her in a long time. But he had. She'd woke to find his body wrapped around hers.
Her gaze found his in the reflection. “I was checking the scars.”
He came up behind her, running his fingers so lightly over the red scars she felt the barest tickle. “These are new?” he asked. When she nodded, he said, “The effects are getting worse, aren't they?” His fear over that echoed in his voice, his eyes. “You can't use it again.”
“What choice do I have, if one of them is about to annihilate me? Or you?”
His fingers remained on her skin. “I can take care of myself. Just now, I thought you were dying. It was an awful feeling, not being able to do anything but wait.”
Yes, he cared about her. She could see it, hear it, and feel it right to the core of her soul. He hardly knew her, and what he did know couldn't be appealing.
“I'm all right.” This time.
He slowly traced his fingers down the center of her back, gauging her reaction. She shivered as she realized she was naked. He stopped short of going down to her behind, trailing up the indent of her spine and rubbing the back of her neck. He still held his towel together with his other hand.
“You said my name when you were seducing Lanna,” she said, her voice thick.
“Because you were touching me.”
“Not me. Lanna.” But she had given away that it was mostly her by signaling him.
His mouth curved into a slight smile. “No, you. I saw you in there, and that's what I focused on. Too much, apparently. I almost blew it.”
He gently worked the tight muscles at her neck, and she had to keep from leaning back against him. “Why didn't you say Jessie's name? She's the one in your cells.”
“She's not in my cells so much anymore.”
Erica wanted to keep Jessie between them, like when they'd had sex and his uttering her name kept her from feeling more than she should have. “Tell me about her. Two men were fighting over her?”
He kept up the languid movements, never taking his gaze from hers in the reflection. “I stretched the truth because I didn't want them knowing about Jessie. She's part Callorian too. Her uncle was hunting her down. He became a black beast, and I tried to fight him. He killed me.”
Her eyes widened at that. “Then how…”
“She healed me. But she Holds Darkness, inherited it from her father. To heal me, she had to send it into me. I think that’s why she was in my cells. It's the only explanation for my preoccupation with her.”
“So, have you always been a good liar?”
“When I have to be. I won't lie to you. Ask me anything.” A challenge.
“What you told Lanna about not being able to love a woman, that you'd never been in love.”
He trailed his hand down her back again, spreading his fingers to cover more area. “That was true. I've been infatuated, I guess you'd call it, but never in love. I was twenty before I was able to go out in the world. I had this idea that I needed to make up for lost time, if you know what I mean. After a while, I started wanting more. But now I can't love a woman because of Darkness. I felt possessive over Jessie, and she was never mine. Hell, we never even kissed.”
Erica liked the idea of that. “So what do you want now?”
His hand paused at the base of her back, and his eyes grew heavy. “I don’t want to see the pain and loneliness of a woman's soul and feel the need to take it away, to erase every bad thing that ever happened to her.” He moved closer, dipping his mouth to her shoulder and planting an exquisitely soft kiss there. “To touch her in a way she's never been touched before, make her take pleasure in a way she's never allowed herself.”
She turned, dropping the shirt and slipping her arms up around his shoulders. His arms went around her waist at the same time that his mouth came down to claim hers. His towel dropped, and she felt how much he did want everything he'd just spoken about. How much he wanted her. She stepped out of her box a little more this time, running her tongue against his, wanting to devour him.
As vile as Lanna had been, Erica tried to remember what she'd said about a man wanting her so badly he would push a woman against a wall and thrust his pulsing rod of manhood into her right then and there. Had Magnus ever done that?
He slid his hands lower, squeezing her behind and pulling her flush against him. “I do want you that badly,” he murmured. “And no, I've never wanted a woman like that before.” He opened his eyes, meeting her confused gaze. “You didn't wonder that aloud, did you?”
She drew out the word, “No.”
He tightened his hold on her. “I pick up thoughts.”
“Like a mind reader?”
“I guess, but only random bits. I knew what you were thinking about with only a few words.” His mouth, with its cupid's bow, curved into a sexy smile, and he hoisted her up onto the dresser, his hands guiding her thighs to brace his hips. “I could take you right here, slam you against the mirror and make the walls shake.”
The thought of that kind of frenzied lovemaking trickled through her. “But…”
He braced her behind and moved to the bed. “This isn't going to be like those other times, Erica. Lights are on. I'm touching you. You're touching me. And you won't be sending me away afterward, got it?”
She couldn't help the smile from forming, which oddly made him smile even though he'd been oh-so-very-stern with his conditions. “Yes, sir.”
He laid her down on the bed, coming with her. His damp curls felt cool as they brushed her cheeks when he leaned low and kissed her again. “You've got a beautiful smile. I want to see it a lot over the next hour, which is all we've got.”
She was caught in a dream and a nightmare all at once. Right now she wanted to focus on the dream. “Let's see what you can do.”
It seemed odd stretching out next to him and touching him, but in an exhilarating way. She slung her leg over his and ran her hands from his mouth all the way down to his amazing chest and the ridges of his abs to his…pulsing rod of manhood.
He laughed, taking in the smile she couldn’t contain. “Do they really call the cock that in those books?”
She smacked his shoulder. “Stop reading my thoughts!”
“I can't help it. That p
hrase just popped into my mind.”
She didn't have the heart to be annoyed at him, especially not now. “I don't know if they use that phrase. I've never been interested in reading one. But now I have a living, breathing perfect male specimen, so I don't need to. Except I'm not well versed in anything but the actual act.”
“We can work on that. What you're doing feels just right.”
It amazed her that touching him could feel so good for her, too. His fingers traced circles up and down her sides, and then over her breasts. She stiffened slightly, and he paused, stilling his hand on her.
“I'm not used to someone touching me there,” she said.
“No, I recall that. Do you trust me, Erica?”
“With every cell in my body.”
That really made him smile. He pushed her back and straddled her waist, keeping his weight from crushing her. His fingers twined with hers, pressing them against the bed. He buried his face in her neck, nibbling, trailing his tongue down her neck. Slowly he made his way to her breasts, teasing at the edges, his mouth hot on her cool skin.
She squeezed his hands as the usual discomfort came and then went. Her body relaxed, and she gave into the pleasure he was giving her. Sensing that—or probably reading her thoughts, damn him—he moved on to circle her nipples with his tongue, building a whole different kind of discomfort. A delicious kind.
He released her hands and skimmed his down her sides to her hips. He moved across her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button, and then nibbled at the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he nudged them apart. Oh, yeah, he was pushing her right out of her box. And he knew it. She'd always been cognizant of the irony that having sex with a stranger wasn't intimate, but letting said stranger touch her breasts or put his mouth on her was beyond her limits.
Magnus, however, was no longer a stranger.
He gripped her hips and between those innocent kisses asked, “Still trust me?”
She pushed out the word, “Yes.”
His mouth came down on her, sending waves of pleasure even before he flicked her nub with his tongue. He worked magic with that tongue, making her fingers curl into the sheets and her breath come in shallow pants.
“Still trusting…you…” she uttered. “Oh, yes, really trusting you.”
He chuckled, making his breath puff against a nub so sensitive it almost sent her over the edge. Then he did this little thing with his tongue that did. As her body shuddered with pleasure, he continued working his magic and sent her off again. He kissed his way back up her body, leaning to the side to grab a condom from his nightstand.
“Can I put it on you?” she asked, pushing him back to the bed. This time she was the one straddling, squeezing his hips with her thighs as she started to open the package. She totally got Lanna's lust, her need for sensual pleasure, because she felt it, too. Looking at Magnus did that, lying beneath her, his mouth still pink from pleasuring her, his curls on the pillow. “How can you look like an innocent boy and like sin at the same time?”
“I work very hard at it,” he said with a grin. “I'm glad to see it's working.”
She leaned down to put the condom on but put her mouth on him instead. She knew the concept but not the nuances. Still, she seemed to be doing just fine by the sighs and soft groans coming from him.
Before he might go off, she pulled away and rolled the condom down over the length of him. She remembered how he'd felt inside her, the biggest man she'd ever been with. The way he had filled her had been more than his size. She had felt something with him, that elusive ‘something’ she sought with every man she'd been with.
Satisfaction on a deeper level than the physical. The Stones song Magnus had played for her rolled through her mind, only she heard, I can get satisfaction.
She eased onto him, feeling not only that something, but being filled by a man she had feelings for. And who had feelings for her, too.
As she moved with him, his hands on her hips, she said, “Florence and the Machine is my favorite band. They have a song called Say My Name. I want to hear you say my name.”
He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “Erica. Beautiful, brave Erica, who's making me feel things I have no business feeling.”
She was afraid of him feeling possessive about her, yet it thrilled her, too. They moved together, and he whispered her name over and over, just for her. He pulled her down and turned them so that he was on top of her, body to body and face to face, as they continued to move in a sensuous rhythm.
“Is it true that you can go for hours and hours?” she asked in a teasing voice.
“Mm, aye, it is. But we don't have hours, I'm afraid.”
Suddenly she wished they did, hours and days to tangle in the sheets.
“Me, too,” he said, kissing her neck.
She slapped his behind. “That is maddening.”
“Sorry, I’m not mindful of it. But look at the bright side: I can always give you exactly what you need.”
Always. A word that sounded permanent. They didn't have permanent. They weren't even sure they had more hours to figure out what to do with those explosives.
Right then, she couldn't think about that. Only Magnus, surrounding her it seemed with his powerful body. Thrusting faster and faster, his mouth on hers and that crazy sensation building in her core, rattling her bones, and then pleasure rocketing through her.
And him, whispering her name as he came, gripping her so hard he might never let her go. The crazier thought? She didn't want him to.
CHAPTER 16
Magnus pulled her tight against him as they both caught their breath. Her head rested on his chest, her hand on his stomach. She felt good there. So good he didn't want to let her go.
He twined his fingers with hers. “After I'd been infected with Darkness, I slept with a lot of woman to try to drive Jessie out of my cells.”
Erica sat up, her expression one of mock consternation. “Magnus, you're a charmer, no doubt about it, but you've got to work on your during and post-coital bedside manner.”
He knew she was kidding, sort of, but he couldn’t find a smile. “You did it. I no longer feel her or anything but happiness for her and my brother. The problem is, I can feel you”—he rubbed his chest—”here, in that same way. I want to protect you, to keep you safe, but I'm feeling that possessiveness, too. Like I don't want you to leave this bed. Like I want to consume you so I can keep you inside me.”
It grew big and dark inside him, clawing at him from the inside and growing stronger with every second he held her. He sat up, planting his feet on the floor and rubbing his fingers through his curls. “Remember what I told you, God, that was only last night. You're better off despising me.”
She sat up too, putting her hand against his broad back. “I tangle with killers. You think I'm going to run from you?”
He turned to her. “I'm a killer, too. And I could end up hurting you.”
A knock sounded at the door. “It's Pope and Suza.”
Thank God he'd knocked and not popped right in. “Give us a minute.” Magnus jabbed his finger at her. “No more going after killers. You're done with that business, do you understand? I know I don't own you, but I do care about you.” He got up and grabbed his pants before heading into the bathroom to clean up. “I won't have you killing yourself.”
She quickly pulled on his T-shirt and her pants. “Is this part of your Darkness or are you always this bossy?”
“It's probably both.”
She took him in as he came back into the room. “I think it's just you. It goes with your protectiveness.”
“Either way, I’m now dangerous to you.”
“I can handle what you are. As you reasoned to Lanna, I’m the only woman who understands you. Who’s not afraid of what you are.”
His expression shadowed. “I’m afraid of what I am.” He opened the door to allow Pope and his friend in.
Twenty minutes later, they'd all gotten up to speed
as they sat in various places in his tiny room. Magnus laid a map out on the bed, and Pope marked where the main group of Callorians were living.
Magnus drew a line with a pen. “The tunnel goes southeast in this area through Strasford.”
Pope took the pen and marked a perpendicular line across that one. “This is where we sensed the boundary of Darkness falling away. Let's assume it covers this area.” He drew a large circle.
“The entire town,” Suza said on a low breath.
Pope glanced at his watch. “Torus was calling a meeting right about now. We need to know what's going on but I don't know if I can 'port there.”
“I'll astral project and spy on the meeting,” Magnus said.
Pope, who now looked like a guy who should be in a rock band, nodded. “Carry on with it.”
Well, except for his talking like that.
Magnus reclined on the bed. “It's been a while since I've done it.” After his brother got trapped at the Battle of Culloden, Magnus hadn't been so keen on sending his soul straying. He felt someone sit beside him and cracked his eye open. Erica, with a worried expression, had settled in so close her thigh touched his arm. She cared about him, too. It warmed him—and scared him.
He put his hand on her leg, gave it a squeeze, and settled into his mind. He imagined the place on the map and the buildings Pope had described. His soul lightened, then pulled away from the heaviness of the Darkness and the density of his body. For the first time in a week, he didn't feel that wretched black feeling.
He focused on the surroundings that slowly came into focus. The place he popped into resembled what Pope had described, a remote area that looked like an industrial park. The last of the day's rays washed pink over the sand and sparse vegetation. People were trailing into the building in front of him. Magnus ducked back against the side of that building. To those at his target location, he appeared ghost-like. He didn't want them to be alerted to his presence. Most of the faces he saw showed no emotion, but he spotted some who appeared to be concerned. When the last straggler had gone inside, he projected inside.
