Of Flame and Light: A Weird Girls Novel

by Cecy Robson

  “A friend,” I answer, meeting her with a naughty grin.

  Funny enough, Celia’s not smiling back. Her narrowing focus skims from me to Gemini. “You have to be kidding me.”

  Aric places his hand on the small of her back. He doesn’t seem any happier, but where Celia is bordering on attacking, Aric’s features shadows with concern.

  Gemini leans back and takes a swig of his beer. “Celia, we’re just talking. Nothing has happened between us.”

  “Yet,” I offer, adding another impish grin that absolutely earns me no Celia points.

  She looks ready to snap my freaking neck. I want to hug her, throw my arms around her and thank her for being the best sister ever. But I’m having too much fun.

  “She’s trash, Gemini—”

  “His name is Tomo,” I interrupt, glancing his way. “That’s what you want me to call you, isn’t it, big guy?”

  Celia knows I’m the only gal who gets to call him that, and when and where that name is used.

  “And what’s your name?” she asks, taking a step forward.

  “We haven’t gone that far,” Gemini say.

  “Yet,” I say, again.

  Aric wedges his way between us. “Gemini, don’t do this,” he tells him. “You’re making a mistake.”

  Gem meets his face with equal force. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he tells him.

  Aric stiffens. So do I. Shit. I wasn’t sure he was willing to sleep with me, but I’m starting to think he might. And son of a bitch, who else has he been sleeping with? Vieve, yeah, I figured he would have rocked her broomsticks.

  “Don’t do this to Taran,” Celia snaps, the tips of her nails lengthening. “You told me you’ve remained faithful. I believed you. Don’t tell me you’re giving that up for this slut.”

  “Hey,” I say, growing defensive, at the same time damn impressed Celia is willing to kick my ass in my defense.

  “I never claimed to be faithful. I only told you I haven’t spent the night with another female,” Gemini says, straightening and stealing a look my way. “Maybe it’s time things changed. If she’s willing.”

  “You asshole,” she tells him.

  “Gem, don’t do this,” Aric says, his voice a low growl. “You’re making a decision based on anger and need.”

  My sister is spitting mad, her breath releasing in furious spurts. “Aric, tell him he can’t do this,” she pleads.

  “I can’t,” he replies.

  She whips around so fast, her long wavy hair sweeps across her shoulders. “Please,” she begs him.

  He reaches for her, frowning in Gemini’s direction. “I can’t interfere in something like this. No matter how much I’m against it.”

  His last words were more a plea of friendship. Gemini stiffens his jaw, refusing to budge from his stool or his decision. He wants this body. In a way it destroys me despite that it’s still me beneath. But this is why alcohol and heartbreak don’t mix, and why it’s easy to glide my hand down his thigh.

  “You don’t know what you’re doing,” Celia bites out, watching where my hand stops. “You deserve more than this.”

  I down my champagne, and pull out the big guns. “Oh. I see,” I say, giving his thigh a squeeze. “If this is about numbers, you’re welcome to join us.” I lick my lips and flicker my attention to Aric. “I’m all about a good time.”

  Celia’s claws stop mere millimeters from my throat. Aric drags her away from me and out the door, hissing mad. The weres around us return to their drinks, likely disappointed in the lack of chaos and bloodshed. Hey, there’s a reason why were bars are insured for extensive damage.

  I return to my champagne when Gemini fills my glass. If he wants me, really wants me, and this whole thing wasn’t for show, he needs to make the next move. For now I’m calm, cool, and all about class.

  Too bad none of these attributes stay with me when Aric and Celia appear on the other side of the wall of windows. Damn, my girl is seriously pissed. I choke on my champagne as Aric sets her down. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I see enough.

  Her arms are flailing and she’s yelling, pointing at him. Aric crosses his arms. He’s mad too, but it’s frustration that overtakes his features. His hands are tied like he said, and like he’s probably reminding her, which does little to comfort my hormonal sister.

  Her glare turns in my direction. I offer a small smile and an even smaller wave, hoping to settle her, even a little bit. Aric snags her when she lunges at the window, dragging her away. She says something like, I don’t know, “fuck off”, maybe? It’s the last thing I catch before they disappear across the parking lot.

  “Hmm. Your friend there is really mad,” I say, fluffing my hair.

  “She tends to be protective,” Gemini responds, returning to his beer.

  I have another glass of champagne and fill another. I don’t typically drink a lot, but in the silence and time that passes between us, there’s not much else to do. How long do we sit there, an hour? I’m not sure. But even though the tension that followed our breakup isn’t present, there is tension all the same. It’s the kind that speaks of bare skin, teasing hands, and hard pounds.

  I’m more than halfway done with the bottle when the ol’ liquid courage kicks. I’m not smiling, or flirting, but my tone and the way my female regions begin to throb assure I mean what I say. “Remember what you said about spending the night with me if I’m willing?” I ask.

  He lowers his beer, his dark eyes meeting mine. “I do,” he replies, his voice husky.

  I lean in close, gliding my hand along his chest. “I’m willing,” I whisper.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Gemini and I had this thing we always did when we were in public, on our way to very private. His fingers would skim down my back to clutch my hip, letting everyone in the vicinity know I was his. He’s not doing that now, even as the attendant hands him the key to room 216. That’s our room for the night. Second floor, somewhere in the middle.

  In the past, he would have requested something bigger, grander. “Only the best for my mate,” he’d say.

  But I’m not his mate tonight. I’m a woman who looks nothing like her, a stranger who agreed to occupy his bed.

  That familiar twinge of rejection twists my heart as we cross the lobby. There’s at least half a foot separating us, enough so he won’t risk accidently touching me or meeting my hand.

  If I didn’t know him, I’d have nothing to do with a man who treats me this way—even though I’m the culprit behind this one-night stand. But I do know him, and love him more than fucking life. So if it means one more night with him, I’ll allow it.

  He prowls forward, causing the couple stepping out of the elevator to scramble away. “Are you mad about something, Tomo?” I ask as we step inside.

  “Why would I be mad?” he asks. “I thought you wanted this?”

  I edge closer, wrapping my long thin arms around his neck. In this body and in these shoes, I’m only a few inches shorter than his six-foot, two-inch frame. “I do,” I say, leaning in to kiss him.

  He jerks his chin away before my lips can connect. “Something wrong?” I ask, more than a little taken aback.

  “There’s only one woman I kiss,” he says in a way that halts me in place.

  “I take it she’s not me?” I manage.

  “No,” he says, turning back to face me.

  My hands slip away from his neck. I step away, trying not to freak out. I remind myself this is a role, and it’s not personal. But when it comes to Gemini, it’s almost impossible.

  “I want you to wear a condom,” I say, trying to embrace the charade I created.

  He leans back against the wall and crosses his arm. “I’m not wearing a condom,” he responds without blinking.

  All right then.

  “I’m clean if that’s what you’re worried about,” he adds.

  Weres are immune to disease. I know as much, but I’m pretending I don’t. That doesn’t mean
he couldn’t knock me up if I wasn’t on the pill.

  He pushes off the wall when the doors clang open, positioning his body against them to keep them from closing when I fail to move. “Are you clean?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “Are you on birth control?”

  I nod.

  “Then that’s all we need to know.” He tilts his head down the hall. “After you,” he says. When I hesitate he adds. “Unless you don’t want what I have to offer.”

  My Gemini, the one I know so well doesn’t speak to me this way. He murmurs lust-filled words intermixed love and a whole lot of naughty. He’d never suggest that this is sex and nothing more.

  I let out a breath, watching the way he regards me. If I go with him, he’ll take me. If not, there are plenty of women downstairs he can choose from, and one head witch just a phone call away. Either way he doesn’t care. My wolf is done being the good guy.

  “Well?” he asks.

  He’s being a purposeful prick so he knows what I’m in for and what not to expect. We’re not going to make love, share it, let alone bask in it. No, this is going to be angry sex based on the underlying growl beneath his words: hot, fast, hard. The kind that will leave me sore in all the right ways.

  I weigh my options, at least I try to. But it doesn’t take me long to decide. I walk forward, keeping my attention ahead as I sashay to room 216.

  I glance over my shoulder when I realize he’s the one appearing to hesitate.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, stopping in front of the door to our room. “I thought you wanted to fuck me.”

  From one breath to the next he’s there, his eyes flashing with need. My comment earned me back control. I like it, and the confidence it stirs. I edge toward him, palming his erection.

  I gasp, as he drags me to him, our bodies colliding. “Do you I scare you?” he asks, his dark stare latching onto mine.

  The only thing that scares me is him walking away. As my heart pounds brutally against my chest, I know there’s only one thing to say. “No. My body is yours to take.”

  My breath hitches as his lips crash against mine. The kiss is deep, lustful, bordering on crazed. I can barely keep up, my head swimming with desire. But as hard as he grips me to him, he yanks me away with equal force.

  “I thought there’s only one woman you kiss,” I stammer.

  “Tonight I’ll make the exception,” he responds, hauling me back.

  He lifts me into a straddle, a slight breeze smacking against my back with how fast he moves. I remember spinning and the sound of a door slamming shut before his teeth find my neck and my back is shoved against a wall.

  We’re in the room, but I barely notice it. Gemini yanks my dress over my head, his chin dipping to pull my nipple into his hot mouth.

  Jolts of electricity fire along my skin, standing the little hairs on end. I’m sure my lightning is building within me, until I remind myself that in this shell, I have no magic. It was taken from me as easily as Gemini peels off clothes.

  He lowers me to the floor, freeing me of my panties, but leaving my high-heels in place. I unsnap his jeans, fumbling to pull them and his briefs down when his hand slips between my thighs.

  I’m trying not to curse, to keep up the part I’m playing. But it’s hard. Those fingers that once knew me so well swirl, exploring my soft throbbing skin, slicking it like the tongue passing along my throat.

  “Tomo,” I bite out, startling when he pushes his fingers inside.

  My hands grasp his thick and growing length, twisting up and around in rough motions. A drop of warmth reaches the tip. Yet instead of allowing me play, he kicks out of his clothes and carries me across the room.

  He lowers me on top of the dresser, turning me to face the mirror. My knees are bent in front me. I’m not sure what he’s planning, falling still as he yanks off his tight T-shirt. But then he shows me a lot more than I’ve ever seen of him, and me.

  He pries my legs open. “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Giving me a better view,” he murmurs, his teeth biting on my lobe and his fingers gliding to my center.

  My eyes fly open. At first his movements are slow, steady, trying to find the right combination of speed and motion. But when he finds it—damn—my legs kick out, the points of my heels driving into the wall and leaving deep scratches.

  The screaming and cursing I’m known for release as I lose my mind. The building passion so hot and furious, it’s almost too much.

  But I want more.

  My breasts bounce as my body moves with him, mimicking his movements and inciting his free hand to tease the tightening centers. My orgasm peaks, the force making me grunt with desire.

  My head lolls back against his shoulder as my release recedes. But as I turn to kiss him, I’m denied.

  “No,” he rumbles. “I want you to watch what I do to you.”

  Again, he enters me with his fingers, exploring me deeper and faster. I should be embarrassed by my whimpers and the way my body rattles from the ecstasy shooting across my limbs. But I don’t fight it, allowing myself to come undone and surrendering to what I’ve gone so long without.

  I’m not quite finished when I shove away from the dresser, clumsily falling to my knees. Gem tries to wrench me up, to do whatever he plans next. But I don’t let him, wrapping my lips around that part of his body I can’t wait to taste.

  He stumbles forward, cursing, as that familiar tickle reaches my throat. Back and forth, back and forth. I tighten my suction and going deeper yet. He wanted a nymph tonight, someone who’s naughty and not very nice. That’s what I give him. No way will he forget me now.

  Anger and resentment stemming from all the nights I went without him, all those moments I saw him with Vieve when he should have been with me—all those times he rejected my body, my arm, because I was no longer whole, fuel each forceful pass. He likes it rough. He always has. Tonight is no exception.

  His release is near. I can feel the pulses with each pass. I have him where I want him. Yet that’s not where he wants me.

  He yanks me to my feet, spinning me so I’m facing the mirror as he enters me. Given his size, he’s always had to work to fill me. But this body I’m in has never had sex with a were, and he has to work that much harder because of it.

  My palms slap against either side of the dresser as I fall forward, groaning. I bite down on my bottom lip, watching each press of his hips join us closer. But once he’s in, the care he used is gone.

  Not that I miss it.

  He hooks his arm behind my elbows, his opposite hand wrapping around my throat to turn me and allow his kiss. But those thrusts are beast-like, true to his nature, and so delicious, I jerk away from his lips.

  I’m no longer trying to be quiet. I can’t. Not with him pounding behind me as rigidly as he is. So I don’t try, begging him for more.

  I’m not sure how many times he finishes me. But as he pulls out, and steps back and onto the bed, I know he’s not done. His skin is flushed red, his breaths are pronounced, and sweat trickles across his broad chest. He sprawls across the bed, tucking his hands behind his head. He appears relaxed. But as his lower half lengthens and grows thicker, I know sleep is the last thing on this wolf’s mind.

  “Your turn,” he tells me.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  I don’t know what time it is. The digital clock in the room was smashed to bits along with the lamp when Gemini took me against the nightstand sometime around three. I lift my head from where I fell asleep on his lap. I think I could have slept forever with him like this. But the pain in my right arm reminds me “forever” with Gemini died almost a year ago.

  Shit.

  Traces of the bind appear across my borrowed body’s skin. It’s not enough to notice from afar. But I’m close enough to see it won’t be long before my real form returns.

  My “real” form, the one that Gemini no longer begs for. Not like he begged for this body.

  The building rese
ntment that made the sex so primal and raw returns at once. But instead of fueling my need to bury my face in his lap, it fills me with sadness, and maybe a little anger too.

  I carefully push away from him, stopping briefly once he stirs. When we were together, and he’d feel me wake, he’d clutch me against him, if I wasn’t already buried deep in his embrace.

  Today is different. He rolls away from me and onto his stomach, putting some distance between us. It shouldn’t bother me as much as it does. This was a one-night stand. No promises were made. No proclamations of love exchanged.

  Angry sex, wasn’t that what people call it?

  It’s funny, but as I rise on the opposite end, the physical we shared is the last thing on my mind. My anger isn’t far away, and neither is that familiar pang of hurt.

  I dress quickly, once I find my discarded panties, careful not to make too much noise, yet unable to pry my eyes off him. He remains on his stomach, one leg bent, bulging the muscles on his back, thighs, and ass.

  A sheet tangles around part of one thigh. I have a few pics of him like that, some with me in them, but most solely of him. He never seemed to mind, often lifting his head enough so I’d capture his heat-filled gaze.

  “You’re not so shy for the camera. Are you?” I’d teased.

  “Why should I be?” he’d ask smiling with all the sin I felt as I snapped the first of many pics. “It’s proof that I’m yours and that you belong to me.”

  In other words, I don’t give a damn who knows we’re having sex.

  As I lift my purse, I’m tempted to dig out my phone. One last photo, one last shred of evidence that we were together. But I can’t. Night changes everything, something about it making us take chances and lose our inhibitions. In the daylight, common freaking sense kicks in and so does a nasty amount of logic.

  I remind myself that last night he was with someone else. It doesn’t matter that it was me beneath those unfamiliar layers of skin. In his eyes, I was a stranger. Someone who will never really know him, but maybe that’s what he needed.