“What does this mean for us?”
“What?”
“The fact that we love each other.”
His heart soared. She was going to forgive him. She really, honestly loved him. She wasn’t saying it during a moment of duress. “Anything you want it to. Anything, that is, but marriage. I won’t make you take that final step. I know how hard it would be. How much you’d be giving up. I won’t make you do that. We can be together anyway. Every day. Every night. If you want.”
“Okay.”
They drove a mile or two. Her head grew heavy on his shoulder and a soft buzzing snore sounded in his ear. He left her sleeping in the passenger seat, locked the car and made sure she had the spearhead securely clutched in her fist, then went up to the room, gathered their belongings, and checked out.
She was still asleep when he returned.
Thoughts churned through Ric’s mind as he drove them back east toward Detroit. He’d finally found the spear and shield and yet he was no closer to finding a cure for his people than when they’d started their search.
But so many more things had happened. Good things. Surprising things. Most notably, he’d fallen deeply in love with Sophie, who’d turned out to be a whole lot stronger, braver, and more capable than even she knew she was.
He was simply in awe of her.
Over the centuries there had been a number of women. Most hadn’t lasted long. Many had fallen short of his expectations, not that that was their fault. It was always him. With an incomparable past woman having set the standard so high, most women would fall far short.
But not Sophie. She was everything he craved in a wife. His body, soul, and spirit clamored to be one with her, to find the completion he could only have through her.
Yet, he knew it couldn’t be. He would have to resist, even if he suffered for the rest of her natural life for it. Even if he had to watch in agony as she drew her last breath. Even if he had to live with the heartache of having loved her and lost her to natural death for the rest of his unnatural life. Maybe it would take centuries, but he would wither and die too, fall to the Second Death, just as his clan members had before him. It was only a matter of time.
It wasn’t fair to ask her for more, to make her suffer the same fate he was facing.
He had a feeling she was doubting her earlier decision regarding completing the marriage ritual. It was something he saw in her eyes. Heard in her voice. But he had to stay strong. Had to keep her safe. Had to refuse, no matter how much his whole being ached for it to happen.
Damn, he was in for a lot of pain. But it was still better than what he’d face if he turned her.
Sophie hadn’t pretended to sleep in who knew how long, since she was a kid. Was it the mature thing to do? Maybe not. But it was necessary.
But she needed the break, a chance to gather the thoughts bouncing around in her head like Super Balls blasted from a cannon. She could hardly get a grasp on all the events of the past few days. She didn’t even know how she felt at the moment. She was rather numb. But she knew herself well enough to know that she was on the edge and could easily overreact to some benign comment Ric was about to make at any moment. She had to spare both of them that agony.
And so, she spent the next several hours exploring her mind and heart trying to sort out her feelings. About Ric as a man. About Ric as a vampire. About Dao’s cure and what it could cost Ric if what she gathered from the conversation with his brother was true.
Could she live with herself if something happened to Ric while they tried to save Dao? She doubted it.
It was at that moment, her head resting on Ric’s firm shoulder, that she made her decision.
She would steal the relics and go to Dao’s house without Ric.
She had no idea what she was supposed to do with them once she got there. Maybe a visit to her boss was in order when they got back in town. He’d know what she was supposed to do with them…she hoped.
Because one thing was absolutely clear: she could not let Ric risk his life or his brother’s life for Dao. As Dao’s friend, that was her risk to take, not Ric’s.
She knew he wouldn’t understand. That he’d be furious. He’d probably yell and turn red and she hated it when he was hurt and angry at her. But that beat the hell out of watching him die. She’d been down that road once. She’d die herself before making a repeat trip.
Finally, the car stopped, from the look of it, several hours before sunrise. Now dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, Ric carried her into his house and laid her on the bed. She gently shifted her weight, preparing herself for a stealth maneuver to slip out. Unfortunately, Ric was still there, close enough to feel her movement and tighten his grip.
She’d have to wait a while.
“Where you going?” Ric said, sounding sleepy and sexy and tempting. “It may seem careless, but I want you to stay here, at least until I get the relics inside and we can figure out what exactly we’re supposed to do with them. I figure dawn is best. The lamia is at her weakest at sunrise.”
“Sounds like a plan. I just hope we’re not too late. But rest assured, I’m not going anywhere. Just making an adjustment.” She squirmed a bit when he settled beside her, and she flopped a leg over his. All kinds of parts warmed, thanks to the contact. Her body was in for some celebration.
Maybe that was what they both needed. Ric was dead to the world after lovemaking. She rubbed against him like a happy pussycat.
“Mmmm,” he said. “You keep doing that and I’ll have to make an adjustment too.”
She slid her leg up until it met with the lump in his shorts. “Oops. What did I just bump?” she said with exaggerated innocence. A smile pulled at her mouth.
Ric growled, grabbed her hand, and pushed it into his pants. “This. That’s what.”
“Oh, dear. I certainly didn’t mean to cause you any discomfort,” she teased. Her fingers closed around his shaft. Her thumb stroked over the head. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?”
Ric grunted. “I could think of a thing or two.” One of his hands fisted her hair at her nape. The other went to her throat. He drew a line with his fingertip from her ear to her collarbone, then traced the same line with his tongue. When he nipped on the hollow between her neck and shoulder, she shivered. Goose bumps coated her upper body. Liquid heat pulsed through her body in slow, pleasant waves, warming her from head to toe. She tightened her grip on his erection and stroked. Up and down. Up and down.
“You know just how to touch me, woman.” Not waiting for her to respond, Ric unzipped his shorts and rolled Sophie onto her back. He wedged his hips between her thighs and kissed her. Like his touches, his kiss was slow and thorough, with a hint of the restraint he was clearly trying so hard to exercise. She could feel his muscles trembling. She could feel the stiff erection grinding against her belly. Could feel the temptation coursing through his body as his tongue slipped into her mouth to taste her.
It was as if their senses were tied together. She could taste herself as he tasted her, sweet and wet, like a ripe apple. She could hear her own soft moans as he heard them, sexy little hiccups and sighs. She could feel the need coiling inside his body, round and round, fed by the tastes and touches and sounds her body supplied him.
The end result of their blended senses was intoxicating. Overwhelming.
His kiss grew more urgent, more demanding. Slow, erotic strokes of his tongue gave way to quick, rhythmic thrusts. Instead of soft lips and gentle pressure, his mouth grew firm and demanding. The change stirred her desire. Sparks of heat shot through her body, igniting little blazes in her chest, stomach, sex.
Clothes. Too many clothes. She writhed underneath him, her mouth drinking in his flavor, her breath mixed with his. She pulled at his underwear, but thanks to the fact that his entire front was squashed against hers, she couldn’t get them down. She groaned in frustration, the sound echoing in his mouth, and in her head.
He broke the kiss, doing more damage to her n
eck and ear with tongue and teeth. “What’s wrong, sweetness?”
“Clothes.”
“Oh. I agree. We have too many clothes on. Yes.” He levered himself off her with two thick arms, then sat back on his knees. His eyelids were heavy as he looked down upon her, but they didn’t hide the raw hunger in his eyes. Nothing could hide that.
He ran all ten fingertips down her body, starting at her shoulders. They skimmed over her breasts through her cotton shirt, teasing her nipples to aching hardness before stopping at the hem and curling.
The shirt came off with minimal effort. Pants too. Still, even though there wasn’t a bit of skin that wasn’t exposed to the air, she was burning up. It was his expression, the hunger she saw in his eyes. The way his lips curled at the corners. The way his tongue darted out occasionally to trace a damp line along his bottom lip. The tension she saw in his jawline.
“Your turn,” she said on a sigh.
Ric crossed his arms over his chest and yanked his shirt up over his head.
Glory, the things his arms and shoulders did when he moved! A giant lump formed in Sophie’s throat. A lump made out of something hard. It was no use trying to swallow it either. Her mouth was dry as dust. When he pulled his pants down, the lump slipped south, landing with a heavy thunk in her belly.
Ric’s body was perfect, lean and hard and one hundred percent male. A soft dusting of hair covered his legs, arms. She longed to trace the sexy line of hair arrowing down from his belly button to the nest at the base of his privates. She ached to taste his skin. She hungered to feel the weight of his testicles in her palm, to measure the girth of his erection with her sex.
She lifted her shoulders off the bed, her arms outstretched, her fingers just short of their target. But he gently pressed her back down. “No. Will you touch yourself for me? I want to watch.”
“Oh. I…I’ve never…done that with someone watching.”
“You trust me, don’t you? After everything. And you know I think your body is the most beautiful, most exquisite thing on earth, right? Because I do. I love to look at you. To look at all of you.”
His sweet words touched her heart and stoked her desire. He wanted to watch her masturbate. He wanted to see her do something so intimate she’d never even admitted to another human being she’d done it, at least no human being with a face. She’d purchased her one and only vibrator from a mail-order catalogue so she wouldn’t be embarrassed.
“Please,” he said, his eyes as pleading as his voice. “Take it one step at a time. Okay? Open your legs for me. Close your eyes if you need to.”
Sophie wanted to please him so much! More than she’d ever wanted to please another person in her life. More than she wanted to protect her fragile ego. She let her eyelids shutter her eyes, closing herself in safe, reassuring blackness, then let her knees fall apart.
“Oh yes, that’s it,” he whispered. “We won’t ever again hide from each other. No more secrets. I promise.”
She was so thrilled to hear him make that promise, the guilt of what she was about to do ballooned. Here he was, asking her to open herself completely to him. Here he was, promising to share everything with her from now on. And here she was, plotting how to run away from him.
The heat in her body cooled to a mild simmer.
“Let me see your sex, sweetness. I know it’s wet and ready for me.” He gently eased her knees farther apart.
Even though her mind was still drifting in the wrong direction, down the highway of guilt to the land of What-the-heck-am-I-doing? her body was zooming down another road, a direct route to the city of Bliss. Nothing like being in two places at once.
She tried to knock her brain into submission, knowing a trip down Guilt Lane wasn’t going to serve any purpose right now; reached between her legs; and parted her vulva.
She heard Ric’s breath catch in his throat and realized the significance of such a simple reaction—since he didn’t breathe too often. Her lips pulled back into a tense smile as she lightly teased herself with a forefinger.
“Oh yes. That’s the way. I can see your juices. You’re so wet. So ready.” The mattress springs squeaked as he leaned closer to whisper, “Now tell me, what are you thinking about?”
She stopped stroking for one, two, three seconds, then resumed. What was she thinking about? Lying to him. Running away and taking on a creature she had no idea how to defeat. Saving him from untold danger. Sparing him from paying the consequences of using the spear and shield. The fact that the minutes were ticking by and she had no idea if Dao was still alive or not.
Ironic. She’d spent all this time angry and frustrated with him for keeping secrets, for not telling her everything, and now she was considering doing the same to him.
Thank goodness he couldn’t read her mind at that moment!
“I’m thinking…about you. About your tongue swirling over my sex in soft, slow circles like this.” She mimicked the circular motions with her fingertip. Blades of pleasure licked up her spine, despite her worries. “And this.” She lifted her other hand to her breast and drew the same slow circles over her nipple. A sigh slipped through her lips. The thoughts swarming her mind fled.
“Oh, yeah,” Ric said.
Oh, yeah.
She scissored her fingers apart, parting her labia wider, and left her breast for better territory, down below. Two hands to her privates, one stroking her nub, one teasing her tight canal. She slid a finger inside and gripped it with her inner muscles, groaning against the building tension working through her muscles. Face. Chest. Arms. Legs. Stomach. Her hand trembled. She bit her lip and increased the pressure on her clitoris, occasionally dragging wetness up from her vagina to keep it lubricated.
She ached for a touch from Ric, even an innocent one. She was so hot, so ready, yet unfulfilled. The vision of herself lying on the bed, legs parted, hands stroking played through her mind like a live-feed video. It made her hot. It made her desperate. “Please,” she whimpered. “Please touch me.”
“Thank you,” he said, so close his breath warmed her face. “Thank you for opening to me.” He pressed his palms against her knees, spreading them until her inner thigh muscles burned. Her hands were replaced with his. He knew exactly how to touch her, how much pressure, what speed. He played her body with the skill of a concert pianist. Lovemaking was a true art form when performed by Ric.
It wasn’t long before she was sure she’d die if he didn’t bury his thick rod inside her before the next beat of her heart. She was sure it would stop. And her lungs would quit. And her brain would die from lack of oxygen. And life would be over.
His fingers were stroking, thrusting, teasing, tormenting.
“Now,” she commanded. “Now, before I die.”
He hooked his arms under her knees and dragged her to the edge of the bed. And with a single thrust, he entered her.
She cried out, overwhelmed by the bliss of being filled. Thankful for an instant of relief before her body demanded more. She clenched her inner muscles around him and rode the waves of pleasure as they washed through her body. The waves quickened with each thrust, building in strength until they practically knocked the air from her lungs. She dragged in each breath, gulped it like it was her last.
Ric pulled out unexpectedly, and Sophie shouted, “No!” He gripped her hips with his hands and pulled, easing her over onto her stomach. Her legs slid down the side of the bed until her feet hit the floor. He gripped a fistful of her hair and pulled until she arched her back and thrust her rear end up in the air.
“Look at that bottom. Oh, yeah.” He parted her cheeks and probed her bottom with the head of his cock. It found its way home with a single swift stroke, along the way dragging against sensitive parts of her anatomy that had been sorely lacking attention until then.
She fisted the covers twisted over the bed and rocked back and forth, meeting his thrusts to increase both their pleasure. Oh, the ecstasy! Her whole body, from toe to forehead and everywhere in between, was
quaking. The first tingles of a building climax spread through her sex, then swept up into her belly.
Just before the last, fluttering spasm, Ric joined her in paradise, thrusting hard with each beat of his climax. He huffed with each inward thrust, repeating her name, over and over like it was the word that brought his pleasure, not the act of making love.
Finally, he slumped forward, feeling heavy and boneless on Sophie’s back. “I love you, baby,” he said to her shoulder. His erection softened and slipped from her body. She smiled into the mattress, then nudged him with her bottom.
“I love you too. But you’re heavy, buster. Unlike you, I need to breathe. That’s a bit of a challenge when I’m smooshed like this.”
“Sorry.” He lifted his heavy frame from her and then dropped it on the bed, spread-eagle, facedown. Oh, yeah. He was worn out, just the way she’d wanted him. “Just give me a minute to rest and…then I’ll…we’ll…leave…before…”
Silence. He was out.
Now, she could go to the bathroom, get herself cleaned up, and sneak out undetected. She’d be at Dao’s long before he woke up. With her gone, and the relics, she figured Ric would be safe from his brother and the Guardian.
Her plan was flawless except for one small detail: being so sneaky and secretive was killing her. Here she’d just made love to the man, told him she loved him.
I hate secrets. Her words echoed through her head.
But what other choice did she have? Let him come with her, take a risk with his life, or with his people’s lives, all to save one guy he’d never even met before?
Never in her life had she let another person take those kinds of risks for her. No. She had to do this alone, face the lamia that was sucking the life from her friend. It was the right thing to do, the right decision for everyone’s sake.
She hoped Ric would find it in his heart to forgive her. If she survived.
She collected her clothes, purse and snatched the car keys from Ric’s pants pocket. Then, before she chickened out, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and headed for the door, whispering, “This is my battle now. I hope you understand. I love you. I really, really love you.”
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