Grimm Tidings: Grimm's Circle, Book 6

by Shiloh Walker

  Tearing his mouth away, he sucked in a ragged breath of air, braced one arm by her head. “Did I…”

  Golden eyes stared up him. Celine reached up and touched his cheek. Beneath him, her body arched and moved, flexing around him. “Just…you have to move.” She flexed around him, gripping him tighter.

  “Move…” Despite the ache in his cock, his heart, he smiled. “Move, how?” He went to withdraw, slowly, until just the head of his shaft was lodged in her. “Like this?”

  “You tease me and we’re going to have problems,” she whispered. “I’m still mad at you.”

  “Mad, are you?” He dipped his head, nipped her lip. “You don’t feel mad. You feel…” His lids dropped closed. Like heaven. Like everything. She felt like everything he’d never known he was missing. And everything he’d long for…for the rest of his life. “You feel amazing,” he finished gruffly.

  “So do you. So keep moving.” She arched again, still wiggling against him, and it was driving him insane.

  Pinning her hips in place with his, he pressed his mouth to hers. “Be still… for pity’s sake, just be still. This needs to last.”

  “Why?” She smiled against his lips. “If it’s over fast, we can just do it again. And again. All night. And tomorrow, and then the next day…”

  If only… “Shhh.” Lifting his head, he cupped her cheek in his hand and stared down at her. They were only going to have this. He wanted a lot more from her than he suspected she could give and he wasn’t going to be shattered. Just this…

  He started to rock against her, staring into golden eyes, watching her lovely face as her lips parted, as her lashes fluttered, as the slow flush crept up her neck to stain her cheeks a pale pink. Lovely, so damned lovely. So very much everything he wanted…

  “Jacob…” Her voice broke and he felt the tremor in her body, felt her tighten around him.

  He shifted and slid a hand between them, seeking out the hard bud buried in the curls between her thighs. As he stroked his thumb over it, she cried out, her head thrashing on the bed.

  “That’s it,” he muttered, watching, holding back his own climax just barely. Just…barely—

  “Jacob.” Her eyes flew open wide and she stared up at him blindly, her hands gripping him with bruising force. “I…”

  The muscles in her sex clenched around him, milking him, drawing him tighter, tighter. He couldn’t…oh, fuck, he couldn’t…

  The climax came from him in one explosive, near-painful burst, like the head of his cock was coming off. And then, he heard a harsh, broken whisper.

  “Jacob…I love you.”

  She was cold.

  Seconds after he’d climaxed, he’d levered himself away from her and now he stood by a massive bureau, jerking clothes out of it with terse motions.

  Sitting up, she eyed him warily.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What’s it look like, pet?” he snapped, grabbing a shirt. It was gray silk, nearly the same shade as his eyes. He’d already pulled out a pair of black trousers and as he pulled the shirt on, she was a little caught off guard by how…well, hell, polished he looked.

  “Ah, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Not a thing,” he said coolly. “I’m healing up, I had a good fuck and you can go now. I’ll lend you some clothes, call for a car. Will is going to have to get you back to the States, but—”

  Rising off the bed, she stared at him. “Excuse me, did you just say, you had a good fuck?”

  “Well, what else was it supposed to be?” He stared at her. “Sorry, Celine, but I’m a bit old to romanticize things the way you do. You want to make it seem like more than it was, then you do that, but I—”

  “You stupid bastard.”

  Those flinty eyes narrowed. “Oh, don’t act so insulted. You’re young. You’ll romanticize things—it’s how you explain away any guilt—ooomph.”

  He rubbed his head and then glanced down at the book she’d just thrown at him. His eyes narrowed and then he looked back at her. “Do you mind? That’s a bit of an antique—a rather priceless one.”

  Celine grabbed another book from the bedside table. “And how about this one?” It wasn’t old. It was just heavy—a fat hardback, one that had been hugely popular a few years ago. She thought it was depressing. She also thought it would leave a nice little dent in his hard skull. “You patronizing son of a bitch. I know my own mind.”

  “Put the damn book down,” he growled. “I don’t know how you were raised, but I actually have respect for them.”

  “And what about people?” She jerked her chin up. “You got respect for them? Think they are capable of knowing what they feel? What they think?”

  Jacob sighed, passing a hand over his eyes. “Celine, you don’t know what you feel. That’s the whole problem. A few months ago, you were still in love with your husband. And now, because we had sex, you think—”

  “I knew I loved you before we had sex,” she said quietly. “It’s why I came looking for you.”

  Turning away, she dropped the book down. Hell.

  Maybe she should have waited to come and talk to him. She looked around, all too aware of the sad state of her clothes. Her jeans and her shoes, her bra and panties, they were in one piece. She could figure out something—

  Snagging her clothes, she gathered them into a bundle and headed for the door.

  Screw this.

  Just…yeah. Screw it.

  Before she got the door open, a hand came over her shoulder. “What?”

  “Leave me alone, Jacob,” she said quietly. “You get your wish. I’m leaving. I’ll stay the hell away.”

  “What did you just say?” he demanded.

  She set her jaw, staring stubbornly at the door. The old, polished oak still somehow managed to gleam in the dim light and she focused on that, on the lovely grain, on the ornate beveling. On anything, on everything but the man standing just a whisper away.

  His fingers brushed against her nape and she barely managed to suppress a shiver. “What did you say, Celine?” He pressed his lips to her shoulder.

  “You know what, I think I’m done stripping myself bare for you, Jacob. You know damn well what I said and I’m not saying it again.” She shoved away from him and grabbed the doorknob. With a savage jerk of her wrist, she opened it and darted through. “I’m done.”

  “I’m not.” He caught her arm and whirled her around. The gray of his eyes gleamed wildly as he grabbed her clothes, throwing them to the side. “You going to stride out of here, wearing nothing but your skin?”

  Glaring at him, she snapped, “Are you trying to be a jerk?”

  “No. It comes naturally.” He caught her chin in his hand and lowered his head. He didn’t try to kiss her, just pressed his brow to hers. “You said you love me. You meant it.”

  Celine closed her eyes, said nothing. What more did he want from her? Was he going to tell her again that she didn’t know her own mind? Her feelings?

  Thick lashes swept down over his eyes and he whispered again, rough and raw, “You love me.”

  And his voice shook.

  Slumping, she tried to steel herself against melting. He didn’t want…

  His hands came up and cupped her cheeks, eased her face up until she had no choice but to look at him. Face to face with those eyes, usually so unreadable, almost always so unapproachable, she felt her heart leap into her throat at the naked emotion she saw in them.

  “Celine.”

  Shaking, he lowered his head, but before he could kiss her, she pulled back. Glancing down at her naked body, she scowled. She was not doing this naked. That massive bureau of his took up nearly half of one wall. Heading back into the room, she jerked open a drawer. Underwear. Closefitting boxers. Another drawer. Socks. Geez. A drawer below that held T-shirts. She grabbed one and jerked it on before turning around.

  He stood in the door, watching her, with that shaken look still on his face.

  “What do you want?” She
glared at him. “You’re killing me, damn it.” Groaning, she shoved her hands through her hair and linked them behind her neck, pacing over to stare out the window. She saw nothing but endless green. And wet. Lots and lots of wet. The skies were leaden and gray and they looked like it might never stop raining. Watching the rivulets of water streaming down the window, she said softly, “I’ve thought of nothing but you for the past two weeks. That psychotic bastard Rob is convinced that I’m about as hopeless as everybody says I am because he kept having to haul my ass out of the fray—I kept thinking about you when I should have been thinking about the job. Good thing there were only two times we actually had problems. Will had all but kicked me out, told me that staying there wasn’t helping you because your gift made you more aware of everything around you and I was distracting you, dividing your energy. So I left. But the only place I wanted to be was with you.”

  Sighing, she pressed her brow to the window and closed her eyes. “Then I see you. And you practically pat me on the head and just…walk away.

  “I don’t know what you want, Jacob.” Turning, she faced him and wasn’t surprised to see him standing just a whisper away. So close she could touch him. Reach out and hold him. “I’ve spent the past four years of my life so damned confused and then things finally seem clear. I know what I want, what I need, but I’ll be damned if I can make any sense out of what you want. You act like you want me, and then you just shove me away. A good fuck.”

  A harsh laugh escaped her and she pushed around him. “Maybe that’s all you wanted—an easy fuck. I sure as hell gave you that, didn’t I?”

  She made it halfway across the room.

  And then the low, unsteady rasp of his voice stopped her in her tracks.

  “My entire life, I haven’t wanted anything—anybody—the way I want you.”

  Celine closed her eyes.

  The floorboards creaked, although she didn’t hear any other sound. Closing her hands into fists, she held still as he drew nearer. The low, velvet-rough sound of his voice stroked over her skin and she wished, wanted to get lost in the sound of it, just forget everything else.

  “Just you, Celine.”

  Swallowing around the knot in her throat, she lifted her head and stared at him. “Just me.” With a brittle laugh, she shook her head. “If that were true, then you wouldn’t have tried to push me away—once, twice, um…three times?”

  “I would. If I didn’t trust myself,” he murmured. He cupped his hand over her neck, eased her chin up. “If I wasn’t willing to trust myself, trust you. I’ve spent all these months watching you mourn your husband.”

  “You were watching me mourn my life,” she corrected. “And it’s one that was built on fairy tales.” She curled her lip at him. “You should know all about them, shouldn’t you? You’re one of the older ones.”

  “Not so old as that.” He glanced at the book on the floor and nudged it with his toe. “But I know all about living a life that’s built on make-believe. Perhaps you could understand a bit, where I’m coming from. You lived, thinking you still had a life. I lived, thinking you still loved him. And you freely admit, you did still love him…has that changed?”

  Curling her hand around his wrist, Celine tugged his hand away. “There’s love…and there’s in love. Aren’t you the one who told me that?”

  She closed her eyes, uncertainty battering her. Love swamped her, confused her. “Some part of my heart will always be Gavin’s…in a way. He was my first love. You can understand that, right?”

  Jacob looked away. “Do you know…I was born in the year 1809?”

  Caught off guard by the change of subject, she watched as he pulled away and knelt down, picking up the book she’d thrown at him. The old one. Very old, she realized. He checked the spine, opened it to look inside and peer at the pages. “Ah, 1809?” She blinked, did the math. Wow. He was over two centuries old. That was…wow.

  She knew there were older ones than that. Like Will. And although she hadn’t asked him, Rob.

  But still.

  “1809,” he murmured, still staring down at the book. “I had a friend. His name was Benjamin. The two of us, we went into business together. We did a right fine job of it. Made a bit of money. Then we made a bit more. That was my true love. Money. The making of it. Money.” Then he tossed her a faint grin. “And fighting. I always did love a good match. Fair or not, as long as I got to bloody my knuckles.”

  He sighed and lowered his gaze back to the book. “But in the end, it was money that held me. Always money…until it was too late for me.”

  Celine stared at the book he held. That very, very old book.

  “Jacob?”

  He tossed her the book. “There’s no secret in who I am.”

  She caught it reflexively, glanced down at the title and managed, just barely, to keep her jaw from chopping. A Christmas Carol. Jacob…there was a Jacob in that story.

  A Jacob Marley—but he’d been old…

  “The writer took some creative license,” Jacob said, moving to stare out the window. “But writers have a knack for doing that, I suppose. He did capture much of my…spirit …so to speak, though. I had a mad love for money and in my mortal life there wasn’t room for anything else.”

  He turned and faced her, his arms crossed over his chest, flinty gray eyes locked on her face. “And in all that time, I’ve never met a single woman who managed to make me think about her for longer than it took to get her naked. Not until I saw you trying your damnedest to get yourself killed in an alley with that fool, Finn.” He paused, his head cocked as he studied her. “Do I understand the power that a first love could perhaps hold on you? Yes, Celine. Possibly, I do. But because I do, I’m not so certain I can understand that you’ve moved on from your first love.”

  Her knees almost buckled. Blood roared in her ears. She needed to think. Oh man, did she need to think. And that was the very last thing she could do, she realized.

  This was too precarious. Too fragile. Swallowing, she swiped her damp hands across the thin fabric of her borrowed shirt and started toward him. “Do you think you’re different, now? From who you were?”

  He inclined his head. The answer was there. In those unyielding eyes.

  “You’re the one who told me I couldn’t go back,” she said quietly. “And you’re right. But here’s the thing…I don’t want to. Not anymore. And you’re why. You’re the one who made me realize this is where I belong. Not just because I’m good at this demon-slayer, guardian-angel gig. But because…” She paused and hoped like hell she wasn’t about to make a fool of herself. Clearing her throat, she finished softly, “I wouldn’t go back. Even if I could. Because I’m where I need to be…where I belong…with you. I’m not who I was. And that’s not a bad thing. The woman I was never could have appreciated the man you are. And I don’t know if I could have loved you…the way I was. But I know this. I sure as hell love you now—and I wouldn’t give that up for anything, for anybody.”

  As Celine took one step closer, he watched her. His hands were shaking, Jacob realized. Shaking, like he had a fever. He didn’t give a bloody damn. Lifting one, he curved it over her neck and stared at her, watching her eyes, her face. “You’re certain of that?” he whispered, lowering his head until their lips were just a breath away.

  “I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Hauling her against him, he buried his face against her neck. “I love you, Celine. Dear God, I love you.”

  “No more disappearing,” she whispered. “No more running. No more hiding.”

  “No. None.”

  “Good…” Her hands twined around his neck and she arched up, pressing against him. “And we still need to talk about that dream deal, you know.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll even let you throw another book at me, if you’ve a need.”

  Celine laughed, touching her mouth to his. The sound faded, lost itself in a sigh.

  “Over two hundred years old,
huh?” she whispered against his lips.

  He grinned, lifted his head. “Yes…and I spent every last one of them, I think, waiting…for you.”

  About the Author

  Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more…ah…serious works of fiction. She loves reading and writing anything paranormal, anything fantasy, and nearly every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes paranormal and contemporary romance, as well as romantic suspense.

  Look for these titles by Shiloh Walker

  Now Available:

  The Huntress

  Hunter’s Edge

  My Lady

  Playing for Keeps

  For the Love of Jazz

  Vicious Vixen

  Always Yours

  Talking with the Dead

  No Longer Mine

  Taking Chances

  The Redeeming

  Beautiful Girl

  A Forever Kind of Love

  Grimm’s Circle

  Candy Houses

  No Prince Charming

  I Thought It Was You

  Tarnished Knight

  Locked in Silence

  You can always come home. Second chances come a little harder.

  A Forever Kind of Love

  © 2011 Shiloh Walker

  Chase and Zoe were the high school golden couple. Football captain, cheerleader, prom royalty. After graduation, though, Chase couldn’t resist the urge to experience life outside their small town. He didn’t exactly expect Zoe to wait twelve years for him, but now that he’s back, he finds some small part of him hoping she did.

  It’s no big surprise she’s married. The kick in the face is she married his best friend.

  Zoe was devastated when Chase left, but she’s filed those bittersweet memories under “Moved On”. She loves her life, and loves her husband. She has all she needs. And Chase keeps an honorable distance.