by Chris Lange
Had he always been this big? She didn’t read confidence on his features but blatant arousal and irritation. His fury was back, as powerful as five minutes ago. He knew they’d both been deceived, so why couldn’t he just direct his anger at the wrongdoers?
Her pulse kicked into overdrive when he looked at her shoe, the inside of her leg, the moist folds so ready to take him in. She felt like telling him to sort out truth from lies, but the wrath in his eyes held her back. With a jerky movement, he brought her close to him, his intense gaze drilling holes in her heart.
“I care not a jot about our begetters’ duplicity. In the fullness of time, fate would have reunited us.”
“Of course not. Don’t you see—”
She huffed as he gripped her thighs, cutting off her words. Then she bit her lip when his tip touched her.
“I did put my faith in you, Tracy. Had you not . . .”
His dark eyes and definite hostility now perforated her soul. To loosen his grasp, she began fidgeting. “Had I not what?”
Her squirming only served to heighten her desire, his rigid member brushing her pussy and liquefying her. He didn’t seem to notice her excitement, bitterness pouring out of him in tangible bursts. “Pledged your loyalty to another man.”
What about him marrying another woman? Did he think of that? Clearly not as he yanked her to him. She expelled a harsh noise when his cock impaled her, when her soaked flesh banged against his navel. Fastened to his lust, she closed her eyes to sustain the rush of sensations overwhelming her.
“I am not him,” he said. “Look at me.”
Her lids sprang open when he uttered his order, all her nerve endings vibrating from the pleasure running up and down her belly. She saw his pissed expression, the uptight set of his shoulders, the vehemence making his chest heave. And she was the sole reason for this puzzling outburst.
Whereas she wanted to flay alive her father and the dragon queen, Garrett dismissed their unforgivable treachery as inconsequential. She was the only one he blamed, the only one who betrayed him.
The violent drive to right a wrong rattled her, but he slew it with a shove. His erection thickening, he rammed his dick in and out of her, bringing forth a moan she couldn’t kill, stirring in her loins a thrill no other man ignited like him. And in that second, she finally perceived his true feelings.
He loved her regardless of the separation, the loneliness, the grieving, their parents’ perfidy, or his marriage. In spite of their broken destiny, he held her life dearest, he thought of her each day, and he claimed her as his because she was his beautiful lady. Before, now, and forever.
“Garrett, I—”
He shut her up with another rough push, his hard-on so deep inside her that she struggled for breath. Beads of sweat ran down her neck and spine, her own raw hunger silently urging him on.
She lifted her hips a fraction, a whine passing through her clenched teeth when he withdrew, only to thrust into her again. His jawbone sticking out, he grasped her waist and pressed her folds against his warm skin.
“You are mine.”
His hissing tone raising gooseflesh all over her, she gave in to the sensations he created, yielded under the constraint of his statement, voice, and will. No other man could hold a candle to him.
He began moving inside her and she scratched the bedspread with her nails. Slow but steady, his motions extracted long moans from her. She arched her back when he drove himself inside her faster, relishing the sight of his features sharpened by passion, frustration, and wrath.
“Do you heed my words, Tracy?”
Yes, yes, and yes. She wanted to pay attention to him for the rest of her life, no problem. Except that his jealousy blinded him to other considerations, and he seemed to easily forget about his wife. She didn’t. Although living in another world, Miss Perfect would always stand between them.
Unwilling to answer his question, she let loose a wail when he suddenly picked up speed. He wielded his cock almost like a weapon now, ramming it into her, each of his punishing shoves inflaming her whole body.
His hands squeezed around her waist, and he brought her to him again and again, setting her clitoris ablaze with every rub of his stiff flesh. He wasn’t Mighty Lord Burnes any longer, not by a long shot. He was the liberated man she longed for him to acknowledge and to become once and for all.
Her fingers cramped. Maybe her silence compelled him to screw her harder. Perhaps he strove to spark her memories of their time together, or to erase the image of another man from her thoughts.
Whatever his motive, his relentless thrusting consumed her mind to the point where she no longer breathed but gulped for air. He fucked her with his dick, and he loved her with unrestrained passion.
Her breasts bounced underneath the bra as he dug his fingers into her hips while his hard-on captured the last shreds of her reason. She was his, always had been, and who gave a shit about tomorrow?
Her knuckles rubbing the bedcover raw, she opened her mouth to draw in ragged pants while he filled her. His eyes flared with an emotion she couldn’t name. He pushed his cock all the way into her and a raging wave of pleasure possessed her. Gosh, she loved him when he was incensed.
Even if he never called her ‘my lady’ again, his feelings for her would never change. She knew it with all her soul. She saw it in the way he looked at her with furious adoration, she heard it in his escalating groans as he neared orgasm. No other woman reached out to the real him, but her.
Bliss struck her more violently than ever before. There, in an impersonal hotel room, with her high-heels around his waist and her back flattened against the mattress, she came with a long yell.
His forceful grunt of release overlapped her cry when he discharged into her his temper, outrage, and fire. Her inner muscles clamped around him. She quivered while he shuddered, her body twisting and jerking from the fierceness of the sensation engulfing her.
He collapsed on top of her, his face finding a haven in the crook of her neck, his chest heaving against her perspiring skin. Despite the aftershocks still running along her nerves, she cradled his head in her arms, and he let her. For a short while. For an instant that belonged only to them.
When their mingled respiration settled down to a more regular rhythm, he rolled away from her to push himself off the bed. He didn’t say a word, just put on his clothes and shoes with mechanical gestures. Mind blank, she followed suit and her torn dress didn’t give her much trouble.
While he buttoned up his vest, she picked up both pieces of paper before stashing them into her bag. Did Garrett bring her that letter tonight because he assumed he’d see her, or did he have it on him at all times? If so, why? She didn’t dare ask as all traces of passion were gone from his face.
Gone and forgotten. Severity and coldness ruling his features, barricaded in his old-fashioned suit, he turned to her while she held the lapels of her gown with both hands. He’d just unleashed inside her four years of bottled-up rage, yet his expression spoke of everything but relief. Or forgiveness.
What would he do now? Scream at her that she was an unfaithful harlot, or leave her to run back to his lawful wedded wife? Heart in her mouth, she watched him approach and slip his jacket around her shoulders.
“Thank you, Garrett.”
He didn’t acknowledge her gratefulness and the unspoken words hovering between them suddenly felt too heavy to bear. The truth needed to come out now, if only for her state of mind, although she had no idea how to break the news to the other person always in her thoughts.
Would Johnny resent her for concealing her past? Would he be pissed off when he learned the truth? Probably. She never meant to upset him or hide things from him, she simply did what she believed best at the time. His reaction however couldn’t be predicted. She just knew for sure that the time had come for J
ohnny and Garrett to meet.
Once out of the elevator, they hurried through the lobby. She didn’t want to be spotted by Mister Swanson or any of the other guests, and she looked conspicuous enough wearing a man’s jacket over a blue dress.
The dark and deserted parking lot provided good cover while they walked to her car in silence. As soon as she unlocked it, Garrett got into the passenger’s seat, closed the door, and stared at the illuminated hotel. What kind of thoughts burdened him? Was he nervous about being alone with her?
No, not Garrett.
Even if he knew where she was taking him, he’d merely raise an eyebrow and perhaps add a formal British comment. Should she tell him he was about to meet the person who riled him so much? Not a good idea because she needed her wits to concentrate on her driving.
Parking spaces on Main Street were sometimes hard to find, so she went straight for her private spot past the driveway. She pulled over, killed the engine, and risked a glance at Garrett just as a line formed across his forehead.
“We ought to meet your friend Raphael,” he said. “However, this construction doesn’t resemble William’s house.”
“No, because that’s my building. You know, the place where I live.”
“Why are we here?”
He was all serious and businesslike. Not brooding over the consequences of fucking her senseless twenty minutes ago, but wondering about Raphael waiting for them in another part of town while the immortal healed his wounds.
Garrett’s impatience chafing her newfound resolve, she sighed. “Have you looked at me recently? Do you think I’m gonna cross over to your world wearing this rag and showing off my tits?”
He swung his head away from her to observe the stars through the windshield. Despite the state of her nerves, a grin lifted the corners of her lips. How could he do her like a fucking demented god then feel embarrassed at the simple mention of her nipples? That was a mystery she’d never solve.
“Listen, Garrett, I need to get changed. It won’t take long, so don’t you worry about Raphael, he’ll wait for us.”
“Punctuality is the politeness of kings.”
“Yeah, well, you aren’t a king, I’m not a queen, and maybe you should have thought of that before ripping off my clothes, throwing me onto a bed, and banging me like a frantic just-got-out-of-jail convict.”
He shot her such an appalled look that a peal of laughter burst through her lips. Before she had time to master her mirth, he wrenched the door open and got out of the car with a single movement.
“Damn.”
Did he hear her whispered curse from outside? Not that it mattered much given that he’d already made his opinion on her education very clear. At some point, she’d believed he might find his place into her world, but who was she kidding? He belonged to the other side with his hoity-toity crowd, his superb mansion, manor, garden house, estates, and his perfectly groomed wife.
She shut the car door with a soft sound. Staying on her side, she glanced at his tall shape enhanced by the streetlights.
“Come on, Garrett, don’t be so stuck-up. You know what I’m like, and you didn’t always mind my manners.”
Actually he had, but she wasn’t about to remind him of the many instances her language shocked him. He passed a hand through his hair. “Let’s proceed to the house.”
Not a fluid change of topic. He wouldn’t meet her eye and the sight of his straight back sent tickles down her spine.
“To be accurate,” she said, “it’s called an apartment.”
“That suits me equally.”
So he wanted to play it indifferent. Fine. Whatever floated his boat floated hers, too. She fished the keys to the condo out of her purse and went for the entrance hall. What if he decided to stay put and wait for her out here? He was bull-headed enough to hang around the building for hours.
Yet the confrontation had to take place now. Johnny was home, Garrett stood four stories down from him and such a chance event would never happen again. For better or for worse, they’d meet tonight.
She whirled on her high heels, taking on her most blasé air. “Coming or not?”
He wrenched his gaze away from the starry sky to observe her with arrogance. She didn’t move, perceiving curiosity underneath his thick layer of superiority.
A second later, he came up to her. “I might as well.”
“Good decision.”
His darkening brow prompted her toward the glass entrance of the building. Why did she insist on provoking him when he already tottered on the edge? If he turned tail, her spur of the moment plan would be wrecked.
She typed in the code. When the buzz unlocked the door, he stepped past her to hold it open. Ever a gentleman, even in a foreign universe and surrounded by a technology he caught haphazardly.
The elevator brought them up to her floor. The carpet cushioned the sound of their footstep as he followed her along the central hallway. When they rounded the corner leading to her apartment, a dark shape caused her to gasp.
“Raphael? Shit, you scared me.”
“I didn’t mean to, sorry.”
“It’s okay, but we agreed to meet at Dad’s house and you’re here now, and . . . Oh, my God, is there a problem?”
“No, I wanted you to know that I tracked down your father. He’s having a drink with some friends of his, and he’s fine. So I thought I’d check out your neighborhood, just to be on the safe side.”
Garrett might be a gentleman at all times, but her guardian vampire would never cease being her protector. Good thing his sense of smell allowed him to find people even when he wasn’t familiar with the surroundings.
“Thanks, Raphael.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll be waiting for you on Bonita Street.”
“Okay, we’ll see you there.”
By the way, how did he get into the building? Her guardian vampire backed away toward the other side of the corridor. When she raised a hand to hold him up, the lapels of the jacket gapped. His eyes narrowed as he spotted her torn dress, his body seeming to solidify. Damn, but they couldn’t fight in her hallway.
She waved her hands frantically. “No, no, don’t get all worked up, Raphael, everything is fine. Garrett was just . . . happy to see me.”
Her lover suffered a bout of coughing. At the same time, the vampire’s dangerous stance instantly relaxed and the wisp of a grin quirked his lips. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”
Heat touched her cheeks. She cast a glance at Garrett, who looked like a stony statue. Great, she must have stabbed his super moral sense again and he’d sulk for a good half hour. Sissy lords.
A hazy movement brought her attention back to where Raphael had been standing, barely in time to see the vampire disappear around a corner of the hallway. No doubt he’d find the way out.
Garrett glowered at her, his shoulders stiff but looking recovered from his impromptu respiratory disorder. Whatever she did or said, it seemed she had the knack of rubbing him up the wrong way.
“What?” she said, “Weren’t you happy to see me?”
“You must understand we are well beyond that.”
“I was kidding, it’s not the end of the world. Don’t you think Raphael knows what we do in private?”
“Privacy being the key word.”
His sharp tone contained more displeasure than irony. Would he ever consider fun as a natural ingredient of a person’s life?
“Come on, Garrett, what are so you afraid of? That he’ll tell your mother her son is getting laid? Hardly a scoop.”
The mention of his beloved mommy iced his pissed-off expression. Before he flew into a rage or tore apart the still good half of her gown, she strode toward her condo. Too bad if he was too mad to follow her.
Although no noise reached her ea
rs, she perceived his shadowing presence behind her when she inserted the key into the lock. He had no idea what he was getting into, and right now might be the best time to tell him Johnny was behind that door. Her heart beating a little fast, she whispered while working the knob.
“By the way, I forgot to mention that the new man in my life lives with me. You’re about to meet him.”
She didn’t dare glance at Garrett. Fearing an outburst but ready for it, she counted to three. He didn’t speak or turn away, he just let her open the door and close it again once they both stood inside.
Lights shone in the living room. Ignoring the loud sound of a car race on television, she took his hand to lead him across the dark entrance, all the way to the guest room she had redecorated over three years ago.
The door was already ajar so she pushed it lightly. A blue and yellow bedside lamp gave off a warm glow as she pulled Garrett forward. He didn’t resist, his mask of indifference mellowing out when he made out the child sleeping on the bed. Her voice barely audible, she squeezed his fingers.
“Lord Burnes, meet Johnny Richardson.”
Chapter 8
Back in the living room, Garrett sat on her couch, his stupefied air stirring a perfect kind of pleasure in her tummy, chest, and even down her folds.
“Tracy, why have you not informed me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
He looked up to regard her like some sort of lunatic. She began pacing, his accusing glare eradicating the sensation of well-done revenge she’d been floating on for the past five minutes. While he continued staring at her as though she’d sprouted wings, she halted by the coffee table.
“Tell me if I’m wrong,” she said, “but can you honestly picture me barging into your big, fancy manor unannounced, disrupting the well-oiled routine of your entire family, grabbing your collar and saying: ‘Hey, Garrett, we haven’t seen each other for nine months, your mother hates me and prays never to see my face again but, oh, by the by, you have a son’. Is that what you wanted me to do?”
