by Bobbi Romans
• • •
Their rooms stood across the hall and next door to one another. Moss and Beth across the massive hall, and Trick’s room next door to theirs. The group agreed to meet up in an hour to discuss whether they were staying in the compound, or leaving to converge back at Grace’s cabin. None of them were too sure they should trust these strangers. So far they hadn’t been given a reason not to, but something felt off. A secret lurked behind these reinforced walls. Of that, Grace didn’t doubt.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Damien stared at her, his concern clear. He was remarkably quick at picking up her emotions and it scared her a little. The intense connection came so easily. If something seemed too good to be true … well she’d already traveled down that road once. Grace feared what may happen if things didn’t work between them.
“Just wondering what they’re hiding.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that, too. Did you catch how none of them mentioned being the one in charge?”
“Actually I hadn’t, but now that you mention that, it does seem rather odd. You’d think he or she would have made the introductions and explained more about their group. I mean, they are the ones who invited us here to team up. Right?”
“Damn straight and the fact they didn’t sets off warning bells for me. The only reason for him to be absent is if he doesn’t want himself — ”
“Or herself,” Grace interrupted.
“Themselves, known,” Damien finished. “And the big question is why wouldn’t they?”
“I’m not detecting anyone lying though. And if the leader is hiding for a bad reason, I would have picked up something from one of the others by now.”
“Maybe, but we also can’t be sure what wards or spells they may have in place.”
“So you’re okay with this whole magic thing?”
“I don’t really have a choice, now do I?”
He had a point, but she would have felt better if he’d said yes. Would have known then he accepted the magic coursing through her veins that was an essential part of her. Not feared or worse, rejected.
“There you go again. Just when I think I’ve pulled you back to me, I catch the faraway look enter your eyes again.” Damien came to stand in front of her. “I’ve only just found you and almost lost you today. I don’t like seeing the distance on your face. Talk to me, Grace. Open up and tell me your concerns. Your hopes, your dreams.”
With him standing so damn close the only thing to come to mind was him, her and a bed. Wall, floor, dresser, whatever, wherever — she didn’t care. He rattled her when he got so close she felt the heat from his body. Images of him naked took precedence over any other notion that tried to breach the lusty haze overtaking her. And he wanted her to talk? Impossible. Question was, did she walk away or grab him and take matters into her own hands?
They had an hour to kill before meeting the others. An entire hour in this enchanting room with extra large bed.
Grace eyed the silken throw pillows and bet the sheets under the spread were silk, too. Just imagining Damien’s tanned, muscled nude body against cream colored silk sheets had her insides twisting, warming, and lower areas growing wet in anticipation of the fun.
“Earlier, you offered a penny for my thoughts. Still willing to pay for what I think?” She tried to keep her face platonic enough he’d be thrown off track.
“I’d give anything to know your inner thoughts.” He seemed so serious, she knew he hadn’t a clue what she truly had in mind. She grabbed his large hand in both her smaller ones and pulled him toward the bed, pivoting at the last moment until his backside faced the edge. A small shove at the surprised Damien sent him sprawling over the massive mattress. The shocked look on his face empowered her next moves.
She yanked her top over her head and snapped her bra off in a speed that surprised even her. Damien made her this way. Reckless and needy. Her jeans and panties went next. When he tried to sit Grace stooped over him, which put her girls swaying right in front of his face. His tongue darted out trying to catch one of the pearled tips, but she eased back before he made contact. One-handedly she pushed him back on the bed.
My turn to be in charge and I plan to take full advantage.
Grace leaned over him, popped the button on his jeans and worked the teeth of the zipper with the upmost of caution as the material strained against his erection. Once safely undone, she slowly slid his jeans down long, dark-haired legs, nibbling here and there along large those muscular thighs and calves. He’d assisted by lifting his hips off the bed, which wordlessly told her he’d help in any way possible right now. Oh boy did he ever help. His expression screamed kid in a candy store. Or maybe teenager in a porn shop fit better. Either way the angle of his hips brought her attention front and center to the proof of his eagerness — and his anxiousness to get her mouth elsewhere.
She wanted to see that sexy chest of his, but if she got too close she knew he’d take matters into his own hands and she wasn’t done with him yet. Not by a long shot. She’d earned some playtime, and damned if she wasn’t going to take it.
Her hands grabbed his knees and Grace pushed them open with gentle ease. Wide enough for her body to fit between them. She tongued the inside of each massive thigh and delighted when goose bumps raced across his flesh. Apparently Mr. Take Charge decided to give her free rein and experience firsthand what her mischievous mind conjured up. When she got eye to eye, so to speak, with her prize she blew lightly across it. Watched as the engorged member jumped, begging for more than blown air. Feathered light kisses on each side, yet still refused to acknowledge what bobbed up and down for attention.
Damien groaned and reached for her even as his hips continued to pump off the bed.
She turkey necked it backwards right out of his reach.
“Nuh uh. Not yet,” she whispered, aware her voice had grown husky as her own need spiked with each gentle play.
Rising a little higher on her knees, she blew more hot air across the thick, hardened length before her. Teased the muscle so that its master trembled and knees clamped closed around her as if begging her to take things to the next level.
“Remember the old phrase,” he ground out, his teeth clenched, which only accented his strong square jaw line. She’d always been a sucker for a square jaw.
“And what phrase would that be, lover?” she asked, flicking her tongue lightly across the broad mushroomed head before her.
“Payback’s a bitch.”
“It might be, but payback has never encountered me.” And she took him within the heat of her mouth. Hands wound through her hair as his hips shot off the bed. Pumping vigorously, yet refrained within the wet alcove she offered. Small pops here and there broke the silence of the room as she lost suction and regained it. Every damn thing about Damien turned her on. His moans, his voice, his honorable ways. His sculpted body so large and muscled, which, for all its strength bundled so tight, could also be so damn gentle and loving.
Damien was a living, breathing contradiction of everything she’d known.
She ran her tongue down and up over the seam lining the back of his cock, and relished in the power she currently had. Relished being in charge to tease or please the man she loved.
Wait. Loved? Yes. No. Maybe. Ever since the afternoon he offered her comfort out on her deck, he’d thrown her emotions into a whirlwind of torment. They’d connected during the most irrational of times and under the most irrational of events, yet there was no turning back from the strong ties that now bound them together.
But there was a fine line between love and understanding. Did she love Damien, or was it relief someone truly understood and accepted her?
The need to reconnect with him right now rode fierce. The crossroads lay before her on the silken spread. Her past and the man who’d haunted her every thought, Henry, was no more. Hadn’t been in a very long time. There was only here and now. What might be with the man who struggled to allow her complete control. Deep down she laughed be
cause there were no doubts, Damien was a man who liked to be in charge, especially in the bedroom. Or outside, or in the swamp or wherever they got enough time for loving.
“I’ve been patient, but must warn you … it’s not my strongest virtue.” His voice sounded rough and gritty and almost pained. Yup, she saw the hard lines of his jaw and sensed he held on by a mere thread.
“Scoot up some.” He urgently complied with her request sliding further up the bed.
Grace crawled up his long length until she hovered just above his erection. “Don’t tease. Bare … l y holding on, he rasped, eyes shut, no doubt concentrating to hold himself in check.
“No more teasing.” A promise she made good on, right then.
In one smooth move, she seated herself on the jutting length of him. God, but the stretch was exquisite and she gave herself a moment to adjust. A minute later she began slowly rising, falling and fighting for control herself. Damien’s hands were on her hips and the grip determined as he urged her movements.
Each breath and movement added to her heightened sensitivity. The building tension between her thighs grew enormous and her nipples swelled with need. Answering their rise, Damien leaned forward and this time she didn’t duck out of reach. Instead, she arched her back, thrusting them closer. In offering and a silent plea to give attention to the tight sensitized buds.
His lips drew in one taut nipple until his cheeks hollowed from his intense pulls. Now it was her turn to ride the cusp of no return as her pace quickened. Damien, even with her atop, managed to pump his hips in timing with hers. Frenzied and impatient, they rode each other with complete abandon, not caring who might hear the commotion. She didn’t care anymore about being cautious. She wanted the release only Damien could provide.
“Need … more … control,” Damien rasped before in one quick move he’d flipped them so her back now lay against the silken spread and Damien hovered above her.
Her knees locked about his waist as she relinquished her control and Damien released his beast to play. Ferocious, rough and wild. He pistoned with increased tempo until the only sounds that could be heard over their gasps and groans were the twacks of flesh slapping flesh.
“Grace … mine!” Damien roared above her as he came, triggering her own release.
Later when they’d come down from the high, he reluctantly withdrew so they could shower and redress before the others arrived. She hated putting the same clothes back on, but hadn’t planned on being here for more than just the anticipated meeting. Reconnecting like she did with Damien had been just what the doctor ordered after such a strenuous and testing day, but Grace still couldn’t shake the bad vibe she’d carried with her. The same one she’d had at her shop.
And she was smart enough to recognize a bad omen when it slapped her in the face. Which it did a few hours later when she startled awake to being lifted out of the bed. Large rough hands had her pinned and the tacky feel across her mouth slammed home the realization she’d slept through her mouth being duct-taped. She hadn’t even had a chance to kick out for Damien before a cloth came down over her face and the lights went out.
Chapter Thirteen
Damien came to awareness with a pounding head and body that ached as though someone had used it as a punching bag. Shifters, even those only magical cursed as such, didn’t get sick like average humans. Though many years had passed since he’d been wholly mortal, he rather remembered the flu being about like this. His last thoughts were of agreeing to stay one more day, followed by curling around Grace. Her sweet scent lulling him into a dreamless sleep.
He forced himself to roll to his side, keeping the moan that accompanied the action as quiet as possible. He stretched his limbs, expecting to find Grace and hoping a little cuddling, or more, would take the craptastic feeling away. Only his hands ran across cool silk instead of a warm body.
“Grace?” Damien sat up and listened for sounds from the bathroom, figuring she’d gone to grab a shower.
Silence.
“Grace?” A bit louder this time hoping she had her head wrapped in a towel that muffled his calls.
Panic punched him harder than the urgent waves of nausea as he sprang from the bed to the bathroom. The white stone room was immaculate. Not a drop of water in the shower or moisture in the sink. No one had used the bathroom since he and Grace had the evening before.
He checked the chair where she’d folded and left her clothes on. Fear rooted deep when he found them still sitting as neat and tidy as when Grace originally laid them down. While she may have gone to speak with Beth, she wouldn’t do so wearing only his t-shirt and not a stitch else.
He tossed on his pants, not bothering to button them and raced barefooted across the hall to Moss and Beth’s room, banging on their door like a madman on speed.
Moss opened the door with such brute force, Damien jerked away, stunned the thing hadn’t ripped off its hinges.
“Is Grace here?”
“No, I thought she stayed with you.” Moss spoke in a hushed tone no doubt trying to save Beth from undue panic. He stepped out into the hall with him, closing the door lightly behind him. “Why don’t you ask Trick if he’s seen her?”
“Why the fuck would she be with Trick?” He scrubbed his hand over his face and did his best to reel back the urge to knock Moss’s head off his shoulders over such an asinine suggestion.
“Whoa, settle down. I didn’t mean anything like that. Only thinking she had a question, or maybe he came and knocked with his own concern while you slept.”
“I wouldn’t sleep through someone knocking on our door.” He felt compelled to state the fact to protect his honor, but Moss far well understood this already. The man, his friend, seemed intent on trying to keep him calm until Grace turned up. No meltdowns in front of their new friends, especially if they had something to do with her disappearance. Using only his eyes, Moss motioned toward the corner of the ceiling. Without looking at where Moss directed his gaze, Damien pretended to stoop for something off the floor. Tilting his head only a fraction, he used his peripheral vision to detect the sensor.
Someone monitored the halls.
Question he wanted answered was why? He understood the need for security cameras outside the compound, but in the actual living quarters? Either their hosts didn’t trust them or they weren’t considered guests. Either way the monitors discovery disconcerted him.
“Well, why don’t we ask Trick just to make sure she’s not with him?” Moss headed across the hall to Trick’s door, rapping quietly. The second Trick answered, both men silently alerted him to the monitor.
Trick stood back and allowed them entry while Moss scouted around the suite for the bathroom. Once inside, he turned on the shower and sink and motioned for the guys to join him.
“While I don’t think our hosts are monitoring the bathrooms visually, I’m not prepared to take a chance with the audio possibilities. Let’s speak quietly, in case it’s bugged.”
Both he and Trick agreed wholeheartedly with Moss’s instincts. “Did Grace pop in by chance?” Damien whispered urgently, yet low as possible.
“No. I thought she stayed with you. Hell, sure as shit sounded like you roomed together with all the racket. Man, shit about came off the walls and all.”
Yeah, he and Grace had gotten rather wild, but not so crazed things should have flown off the walls.
“What do you mean?”
“Uh dude … headboard, wall. Boink, boink. I really gotta explain anymore?” Trick’s cocky attitude this early coupled with Grace’s vanishing act left him wanting to thump the kid. Hard. Square between the eyes.
Apparently picking up the physical aggression from Damien, Moss jumped in.
“Grace is gone. We wanted to check if you’d seen or spoken to her.”
“No. Actually tried to zone out the ruckus they caused last night.” Even Trick had a concerned serious look crossing his face.
“Thing is, we, uh, didn’t get overly rambunctious. Maybe loud
, but not wall thumping crazy.” Damien didn’t plan on going into the explanation their position in bed would have not moved the massive and heavy solid teak wood headboard. He and Grace had not made the commotion Trick described.
“You remember what time all the wall banging began?” Moss asked.
“I didn’t exactly look at the clock, but probably around two A.M. Please tell me you two got your jiggity on then.” Apprehension crept across Trick’s face.
“No. The ruckus didn’t stem from us. Let me rephrase. Least not from a conscious us.”
“Damn, dude. I woulda busted a bad guy’s ass. I thought you two were getting it on like rabbits again. Fuck. I coulda done something.” Trick slammed his fist into the bathroom wall next to him cursing up a storm.
“Sssh. Remember. We don’t understand how our hosts fit into all this, and until we do, the least they know the better.” Moss urged caution and quiet.
“Yeah, but man. I fucked up like royally good.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the guilt that weighed heavy on Trick’s mind.
“Look, kid, this isn’t your fault. No way could you have suspected what was really going down. What I need to figure out is why I didn’t awaken through the melee right beside my head. How I slept through that much chaos.” Damien raked a hand through his hair.”
“Slept through what, and why are you guys all huddled in the bathroom whispering? Hey, where is Grace? She head down to breakfast already?”
All three men, no matter how mighty, jumped like firecrackers went off in their asses.
Damien hadn’t formulated yet how to explain to Grace’s niece her aunt’s sudden disappearance. It would have been wasted energy anyhow, as Trick blurted out an apology, which sent Beth into a full on tizzy.
“Where the fuck were you at? She slept right next to you. How could you not notice her getting kidnapped?” Damien ignored the sharp jabbing finger in his chest. She only asked the very thing he couldn’t figure out himself. He didn’t blame her for the accusations contained in her questions.
