André watched her sleep for a while, catching fragments of her dreams as he eavesdropped on her thoughts. He tore his eyes away from his wife and looked back at his son. Sam stared back at him. “Your mom has dirty dreams,” he whispered, his smile morphing into a grin.
He climbed into the bed next to her with Sam on his chest and closed his eyes against the headache forming behind them. The word exhausted gained new meaning for him.
An elbow nudged his chest. “André,” Katrina whispered.
“Hmm?” He opened his eyes and looked around at the change in the lighting. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“A couple hours. Take Sam for a second.” She transferred Sam to André’s arms and headed into the bathroom.
André sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, arching his back for a moment to loosen up the stiffness. “Hey,” he mumbled at his fussy son. “Momma will be right back.” The door swung open and he turned his head in the direction of the intrusion.
Matthew and Linda walked in, and Linda’s thoughts switched from her grandson to André. Irritation spread over Matthew’s face and André steeled his expression, trying to block her evocative thoughts.
“Where’s Katrina?” Matthew asked, attempting to ignore his wife’s sudden change.
“She’s in the bathroom.”
As if on cue, the bathroom door opened. Katrina looked at the family gathering. “Hi,” she said. Tension hung in the room like a patch of hot, humid air and Katrina stepped toward André.
“What happened at school today?” Matthew asked, framing the question based on some rumors that made it to his office this afternoon.
Katrina put her hands out for her son and André transferred the baby to her before burying his hands in his pockets. He wouldn’t meet his father’s gaze; instead, he shifted from one foot to the other, studying the tile pattern on the floor.
Katrina situated Sam with a bottle and then looked up at her in-laws. “It wasn’t his fault, so back off,” she snapped.
The sudden onslaught of irritation transmitting from her surprised André, and he raised his eyebrows, meeting his father’s gaze. Matthew had the same look of shock that André imagined showed in his features.
She looked back at Matthew and Linda, her eyes becoming hard as steel, and her focus landed on Linda. “So help me God, I’m going to smack you if you continue looking at André like that.” She sent a mental shove that actually pushed Linda back a step, gaining her full attention.
“I, uh...” Linda’s gaze snapped to Katrina. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what’s come over me.” She stumbled over the words and glanced quickly in André’s direction.
“He’s emitting some sort of vibe that’s making us a little crazy,” Katrina replied and André caught her direct glance. “Neither of us can figure out why.” She looked back at Linda. “But that still doesn’t give you the right to act on it.”
“I would never...” Linda began to protest but trailed off as she thought about earlier today at the house. “I wouldn’t,” she said, more to convince herself than anyone in the room.
Matthew sent a glare in André’s direction. “You don’t know how to control this thing?”
André shook his head. “I was swarmed at school and I screwed up. Everyone in my class saw my eyes, Dad. My teacher freaked a little and I had to give him a little nudge,” he drawled, the nerves getting the best of him. “They know I’m different now.”
“Shit,” Matthew whispered.
André shrugged. “I tried to blame it on fatherhood.” His attempt at humor fell flat and he traded a glance with Katrina. “I’ve got another exam in an hour.”
“You think it’s wise to go back to school today?” Linda asked.
“He’s got to finish school,” Matthew replied, not giving André the option. “Just keep your...whatever...in check.” He waved his hand at his son.
“Yeah, I don’t want you coming back with lipstick on your face again,” Katrina added.
André nodded. “I’ll try.”
“And no mind control shit,” Matthew said.
André opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. It was either mind control or unwanted advances. Both options sucked. He nodded, agreeing to his father’s order. “I’m going to go grab something to eat,” he muttered and retreated out of the room.
Relieved to be out from under the scrutiny of his parents, he wandered into the hospital cafeteria and stood looking at the menu, feeling the eyes of the female patrons heating up his backside. Ignoring the uneasiness, he walked up to the counter and ordered a cheeseburger, French fries, and two vanilla milkshakes. He paid with cash and carried the tray back to the maternity ward.
André handed the milkshake to Katrina and set the tray on the small table. He slid the chair in and didn’t look at anyone as he wolfed down the meal.
“God, that smells so good,” Katrina said, eyeing her husband’s meal.
“Can you have normal food yet?” André said with a mouthful of French fries.
Katrina shrugged.
“Well, ask,” André said after swallowing.
Katrina pressed the call button and a nurse entered a few minutes later.
“Can I help you?” she asked Katrina, but her eyes drifted to André.
“Can I have a cheeseburger and fries too?” Katrina asked and took a sip of her milkshake.
“Hmmm?” the nurse said, pulling her attention back to Katrina.
“Can I have a cheeseburger and fries?” Katrina said in a measured tone.
“Certainly. You can call down and place your order and they’ll bring it on up.” She smiled, her glance again wandering back to André. She checked Katrina’s pulse and measured her blood pressure, marking both on her chart before shooting a longing glance in André’s direction.
“Can’t you shut it off?” Katrina snapped after the nurse left the room.
“I don’t even know what the fuck it is,” he barked, prompting a smack on the back of his head by Matthew.
“Watch your language,” Matthew scolded.
André sighed, biting down another smack-worthy response. A year ago, this kind of attention would have been a glorious ride for him, tagging each and every female who came within his radar. In that respect, Anna was right on the money, but ever since he hooked up with Katrina, she was the only one he wanted. Even so, all the silently transmitted sexual innuendo fueled a building fire within him that he knew couldn’t be released for another six weeks, adding to his frustration. “I have to leave soon for class,” he said. “Practice is at three. I’ll be back around five.”
“I thought you weren’t going to practice,” Katrina balked and André sent her a warning glare that shut her up.
“After everything that happened today, I need it,” he said.
“Don’t you think—” Matthew started.
“I need it,” André interrupted, turning his fiery gaze in his father’s direction. He needed some physical pounding to burn off the frustration and he knew it. If not, he might blow and that wouldn’t be pretty. “Besides, they want me to keep up the strength for next season.”
“Next season?” Matthew laughed. “That’s going to be awfully hard to flip with a job. You’ve got a family to support.” He crossed his arms.
“I’ll figure it out,” André said, standing and stalking over to Katrina. “See you later,” he said and kissed her cheek before leaving them to talk behind his back.
A burning frustration ate at Matthew’s stomach. “Sometimes...”
“He can be frustrating,” Katrina finished his sentence for him. “But despite what you’re thinking, André will figure it all out.”
“I know he will, but what kind of damage is he going to do in the meantime?” Matthew turned and looked out the window, wondering what he should do with André and how he could teach him a little more self-control.
“You could give him a job this summer,” Katrina said, addressing his
thoughts as opposed to his question.
“I don’t think so,” Matthew replied.
“Why not? He could do office work. The hours aren’t bad and you can keep an eye on him,” Katrina pushed.
“She’s right, Matt,” Linda said, bringing the baby back to Katrina. “Doesn’t your assistant need some help?”
“Yes, but she needs real help. She doesn’t need to be a babysitter.”
“André doesn’t need babysitting. He needs a job,” Linda said. “And you’re going to give him one.”
“Nepotism is frowned upon in the Armed Forces,” he stated.
“I don’t care, Matt. You are in a position to make it happen.”
“That’s why I don’t think it’s such a good idea.” Matthew turned toward Katrina.
“Dad, André still wants to go into the service. This would give him a view that most soldiers don’t get to see.”
Matthew laughed. “You think the administrative side is glamorous?” He read some of her train of thought.
Katrina shrugged. “My dad did pretty well and you’re not doing so badly for your family either.”
Matthew’s eyes switched between the two women and their thoughts pressed in on him, along with the prospects of what the summer would be like if he didn’t give in to their wishes. “All right. I’ll see what I can do,” he muttered.
12
André walked into the school and all eyes turned, watching his every move. The rumor mill must have spread through the entire student body because now everyone gave him a wide berth. He didn’t know whether to be irritated or relieved and chose a seat in the very back of the class for the exam. As the students filtered in, their gazes flicked in his direction before turning toward the front of the class.
André sighed at the palpable strain in the air. The most annoying emotion hitting his filters was fear, fear of the unknown. He wanted to stand and scream at them, tell them he was the same kid who had sat next to them in class for the last six years. Instead, he clamped his jaw closed and took a deep breath.
A knot formed in the small of his back, born of the tension filling his every fiber and he shifted, stretching his muscles, trying to get the knot to loosen.
A girl who missed his brain scramble earlier in the day took a seat next to him, scanning him with the same hungry, horny expression he was getting accustomed to, and he rolled his eyes. Unbelievable.
He lifted his left hand and pointed to his wedding ring and she shrugged, licking her lips. So what?
Her glib response resounded in his head and his hands balled into fists. “No,” André replied between clenched teeth, keeping the instinct to push her mind locked down. When she scooted closer, he slid his chair farther away, sending her a warning glare, one that seemed to break through the trance and she focused on the front of the class instead.
He glanced around the room, relief flooding through his flesh. He didn’t want to use the influence again unless absolutely necessary.
The exam landed on his desk and he was the first to finish, dropping it on the teacher’s desk before he shot out of the room, heading toward practice with an hour to spare. The empty locker room greeted him and he sat down on the bench in front of his locker, putting his tired head in his hands.
When he looked up, the cheerleading squad converged and he shot to his feet, backing into the lockers.
“You slid out on us earlier today,” Anna purred.
André sidestepped several times, keeping them just out of reach until he found himself in the showers. His heart hammered in his chest as the girls peeled their tops off, tossing them toward the entrance. “Anna, come on,” he said, nearly begging her to stop.
“André, I know just how good you are, remember?”
André nodded. “I remember, but you aren’t Kat,” he said, purposely pushing her buttons.
Anna smiled. “Normally, that would piss me off, but right now, all I can think about is screwing you again.” She advanced.
“It’s not going to happen,” André said, but his resolve was waning. Five of the most beautiful girls in the school were stripping off their clothing in front of him.
Anna and the four other girls laughed. “I beg to differ,” she said, glancing at his crotch. “You’re already turned on, aren’t you?” she said, taking notice of the hard shape pressing against his jeans.
André looked for an escape but they were blocking the only way out and he knew if they got their hands on him, he’d lose control. “I don’t have any protection.”
Anna reached in her bra and pulled out a strip of condoms. “I do.” She smiled, killing his last frantic excuse.
Damn it, I should know better; she was always prepared. André scanned the shower again and his gaze landed on the showerheads and the solution to his predicament. He glanced back at Anna and willed the showers on full blast. Water cascaded out at the girls, soaking them with bone-chilling water.
In unison, they let out a collective yelp and retreated, leaving André fully clothed, dripping and shivering under the cold spray. He stayed put, letting the frigid water kill any sense of arousal before he stepped into the locker room. His sneakers squeaked water with every step and he did a quick scan of the area before he peeled off his shirt. The cold shower did nothing to wipe out the exhaustion settling in his bones and he yawned. He wrung the water out of his shirt and hung it over the side of the locker and did the same with his pants.
André breathed a sigh of relief and thanked God his football uniform was black and not white as he pulled the pants over his wet underwear. He peeled his socks off and wrung those out the best he could, slipping them back on and sliding his feet into his football cleats.
André watched the drips form on the cuffs of his pants and fall to the floor. “Dry,” he whispered in the empty locker room and let out a bark of a laugh when a spot spread over the wet jeans until they were bone dry. He looked around the room to make sure he wasn’t being observed and stood, reaching for his jeans. His hands confirmed what his eyes had seen. He did laugh this time, folding his jeans and opening the locker. His gaze fell on the shirt. “Dry,” he whispered again and a minute later, he was folding the dry shirt, laying it on the jeans and closing the locker. He concentrated on the wet underwear and socks wrapped uncomfortably on his skin and repeated the command. He chuckled, actually feeling the fabric’s heat blast.
For the first time since he landed on Earth, André wondered exactly what he was capable of. He had never exercised his powers regularly and he certainly hadn’t entertained the idea of testing his limits, until now. He needed to control it without fail so it didn’t exhaust him to the point of passing out.
He thought he was tired before. Now his eyelids felt like lead weights had been tied to them and he took a glance around the locker room, making sure it was empty before lying down on the bench. The minute his eyes closed, sleep pulled him into the depths of darkness.
Dreams of Katrina’s hands caressing his skin and her hungry mouth toying with him took hold. He reveled in her touch until the cheering of his teammates bled through the dream. His eyes fluttered open and he gasped at Anna’s predatory smile as she rode him like a professional whore.
Two other cheerleaders had his hands between their legs, his fingers working of their own accord, making them squeal with delight while his teammates cheered like they were watching a porn flick at the theaters.
Sensations flooded his mind. The pure pleasure Anna and the two girls experienced washed away his common sense and a groan escaped his mouth. Anna leaned over and kissed him hard. His mouth opened to protest but instead he hungrily accepted the kiss and his eyes clenched shut, willing this to be a dream.
Katrina’s going to kill me.
The sobering thought barreled through his foggy brain and his eyes flew open, bringing him fully awake and in control of his faculties. He yanked his hands out of the cheerleaders’ grip and sat up, pushing Anna off and away from him. “No,” he growled in disgust. He butt
oned himself up and stood, glaring at the roomful of people.
Anna reached for him again and he knocked her hand away. “This isn’t a fucking game,” he snapped. He felt the hands slide up his back and turned. “Get away from me!” he bellowed, breaking through their euphoria. They backed away. He shot a glare back at Anna. “You cannot have me,” he said, leaning down into her face. “Understand?”
She grinned, unaffected by the rejection. “I had you a few moments ago.”
“Anna, I fucked you a long time ago and that’s all it was. You were just another conquest to me, just another stupid bitch willing to spread her legs wide. I never gave a shit about you; now get the hell away from me,” he growled, his Southern drawl making the words much harsher.
Anna scuttled away, her eyes welling with tears as sobs tore from her chest.
André watched her run off and his gaze fell on his teammates, the anger still filling his skin, itching to be freed like a wild panther caught in a trap. He turned and walked out of the locker room onto the field, picking up a football and throwing it with all his might. An added mental shove made it sail into the top deck of the stands at the far end of the park, well over the length of the football field, bouncing between the bleachers.
“You definitely aren’t one of us,” Adam said from behind him.
André stiffened but didn’t turn.
“We would have fucked those cheerleaders regardless of our marital status.” He chuckled.
André smiled at the dig, keeping his back to Adam. “I’m sure.”
“You throw like that and we’ll win every game this year.” He stepped next to André.
“If I throw like that, you guys will be in the hospital.” He glanced at Adam.
Adam inhaled and nodded, turning his attention to André. “What you said to Anna was pretty harsh.”
André nodded. “The truth usually is.” He picked up another football and twirled it in his hands. “What do you want to know?” he asked, hearing the questions rattle around Adam’s mind.
Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 109
