Dalakis Passion 4 - Eternal Brothers

by N. J. Walters

  beginning the healing process. He slid his still-heavy erection from her body, catching

  her when she slumped toward the wall.

  Holding her tight in his arms, he grabbed a washcloth and quickly cleaned them

  both up and then turned off the water. Steam filled the small room as he lifted her out

  of the shower and leaned her against the counter. Grabbing a towel, he quickly dried

  them both off and then lifted her into his arms once again. She didn't even open her

  eyes as he carried her into her bedroom and tucked her into bed.

  He knew he had to leave, but he wanted to hold her in his arms and feel her

  heartbeat against his. Just a few minutes. What could it hurt?

  Ignoring the warning in his mind, he slid in beside her. She rolled toward him,

  settling her head on his shoulder and pressing a hand over his heart as if she'd been

  sleeping with him for years. It felt right and good.

  He'd only stay a moment and then he'd leave. Settling himself, he soaked in the

  pleasure of having her next to him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cassidy was frustrated. Raking his fingers though his hair, he tried to calm himself

  before he went into the library to get Blythe. They'd all called it quits earlier than usual,

  but it was still only about an hour until dawn.

  He stalked into the room and then came to an abrupt halt. Blythe was curled up in

  one corner of the sofa, fast asleep. She looked younger in sleep, less guarded. Her

  blonde hair covered the pillow, creating a halo around her face. Damn, she was

  beautiful. But it wasn't just her beauty that drew him. He was too old to be attracted to

  just a pretty face.

  No, it was Blythe herself. The inner strength that shone from within her. The shy

  way that she was around the others. She was a contradiction--one minute brash, the

  next uncertain. She wore her attitude around her like a shield, keeping them all at arm's

  length. Not that he blamed her. Her life certainly hadn't been a bed of roses, but still, he

  found in frustrating.

  She made a small snuffling sound, but didn't wake. He strode toward her, making

  sure his boots made no sound against the hardwood floor. Cassidy eased down onto the

  sofa beside her, but her eyes popped open the second he touched the cushion. Fear

  filled her eyes, but she quickly hid it behind her mask of indifference. Cassidy wanted

  to howl and yell and beat his fists against the wall. Instead, he hooked a strand of hair

  around her ear and then brushed the edge of his finger against the line of her jaw.

  Arousal, swift and immediate, filled him. It was always like this around Blythe.

  And she wasn't immune either. As he watched, her throat moved convulsively as she

  swallowed. He sensed her uncertainty and knew that she wasn't quite sure if she

  wanted to move away from him or toward him. They'd been playing this battle out all

  week.

  Cassidy made the decision for her, sitting back and giving her space. He liked to

  think that it was disappointment that filled her face, but with his luck, it was relief. She

  pulled herself up into a seated position, putting even more distance between them.

  Barely stifling a yawn behind her hand, she stared at him. "No luck?"

  Her voice washed through him like a physical caress. Soft, sultry and sleep-filled, it

  was the kind of voice a man dreamed of hearing in the middle of the night. It was the

  voice of a lover, sated and exhausted but wanting more.

  Cassidy swallowed hard and shook his head. "None." He tried to ignore his hard-

  on, but it was impossible. His earlier irritation returned. "We're hitting nothing but

  dead ends on both sides."

  Blythe reached out and brushed his arm with her hand. He felt that small caress

  ricochet throughout his body, heating it, hardening it. "You'll catch a break soon. I

  know you will."

  The walls of the room seemed to close in around him. Cassidy needed to get out of

  here, needed to get Blythe out of here. He wanted her all to himself and there was no

  privacy to be found in this house. Cassidy knew that Lucian and Delight were still up

  and around, and although he knew they wouldn't intrude, he wanted Blythe in his

  home.

  Standing, he held out his hand to her. "Come on. It's time to go home." It was

  deliberate, his use of the word home. She stared at his hand and then into his face as if

  searching for answers. He kept his face impassive, but couldn't help the bolt of

  satisfaction that shot through him when she reached out and took his hand. He helped

  her to her feet and then wrapped his arm around her, guiding her toward the back

  door. He stopped long enough to check the monitors around the garden and set the

  house alarm before ushering her quickly across the still-dark garden and into the

  carriage house. Resetting the alarms on his own place, he then led her up the stairs and

  into his apartment.

  Home. He supposed it was as much of a home as any place he'd lived over the

  years. Up until Blythe had come to stay with him, it had just been a place to sleep and to

  house his stuff. But since she'd come, the place had taken on an entirely different

  feeling.

  Whether she knew it or not, Blythe was a nester. He'd seen small signs of it in her

  old apartment. The mismatched furniture that had been refinished, the brightly colored

  thrift store plates and glasses stacked neatly on an open shelf and the myriad pillows

  that had been scattered across her futon. She hadn't had much, but she'd made her

  space comfortable, her own. Now she was doing the same thing to his place.

  Little things, like an old glass jar filled with flowers from the garden that turned up

  in the center of his kitchen table and the fact that a blanket from his closet was now

  draped artistically across the back of his sofa. And instead of being pissed that she was

  messing around with his space, he was charmed and pleased. He wanted her to feel

  comfortable and settled. Wanted her to feel at home. Wanted her to stay.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That was the bottom line. He wanted

  Blythe to stay with him. Forever. Deep down he knew that she was waiting for this to

  be over so she could get on with her life. Without him.

  He watched her scurry off to his bedroom--hers now, he supposed. He glanced

  down at the sofa, resigning himself to another sleepless night. God, he was tired. The

  past week he'd caught only a few catnaps here and there. He was running on empty

  and he knew it. None of them could keep this up indefinitely. It was starting to fray

  everyone's nerves to the breaking point.

  He glanced over at the bedroom door, brooding as he yanked off his boots and

  socks. His mood grew darker as he hauled the tails of his shirt out of his jeans and

  undid the buttons. If she thought she was going to get rid of him easily when this was

  over, she was in for a big surprise. His hands stilled as he slid the last button out of its

  hole. And if she knew what he was thinking, she'd run now. Patience was the key.

  Patience and time.

  She was getting used to him, to all of them. Cassidy watched her sometimes when

  she was with the other women and knew she was beginning to relax around them. That

  was a plus as far as he was concerned. The closer she connected with them, the less

/>   likely she was to be able to walk away from all of them when this was over.

  Plus, she was starting to get used to him as well. Small things, like the way she took

  his hand back at the house and then let him keep his arm around her as they walked

  back to the carriage house. A week ago she wouldn't have reached out to him at all and

  would have either shrugged off his arm or stiffened beneath it.

  Rolling his shoulders to try to release some of the tension, he closed his eyes and

  tried to ignore his throbbing dick. His eyes flew open when he heard a slight sound. He

  wasn't worried though. Cassidy knew it was Blythe. Her warm, floral scent had wafted

  through the doorway just before he heard the shuffle of her feet.

  She was staring at him, hunger warring with uncertainty in her eyes. He could not

  ignore the unspoken plea. Slowly, he stalked toward her, giving her plenty of time to

  slam the bedroom door in his face. She stood there watching him, her blue eyes

  growing larger with each step he took. Her cheeks, normally pale, were tinged with

  pink. The bruises that had marred her face, making it sallow and dark, had faded

  somewhat, but her soft skin was still marked by the trauma she'd been through.

  Her chest was rising and falling with each breath she took, making her breasts

  jiggle. She'd removed the clothing she'd been wearing earlier and was now clad only in

  a pale blue T-shirt that barely skimmed the tops of her thighs. Her long, smooth legs

  were bare and he couldn't tell if she was wearing any panties or if she was totally naked

  beneath her shirt.

  Cassidy's heart pounded and his own breathing was harsh as he stopped right in

  front of her. He was so close that his bare toes touched hers. Blythe had to tip her head

  back to look at him.

  Every muscle in his body was tense with anticipation. His blood pumped thickly

  through his body, most of it pooling heavily in his groin. His cock throbbed with a

  primitive rhythm, demanding he slake his lust. But he wanted more than that. He

  didn't only want Blythe's body, he wanted her very soul. It was only fair, since she

  already owned his.

  He clasped her shoulders with his hands and was once again reminded of just how

  much smaller than him she was. She had such a vibrant personality, she seemed much

  larger sometimes. But Cassidy was always aware of how fragile she was, and not just

  physically. She'd been through some kind of trauma that centered around Jethro Prince.

  Cassidy didn't know exactly what had happened between the two of them, wasn't

  sure he wanted to know. Just the thought of Blythe with another man was enough to

  make him crazy, as illogical as that was. He knew she'd been with other men. At her

  age and as beautiful as she was, that was a given. But he wanted to be the only man

  from here on in.

  She licked her lips and he followed the path of her tongue with his gaze. The vein in

  his temple was pounding. He swallowed hard. He wanted to cherish her, loving her

  slowing and carefully, taking the time to stroke every inch of her lush body. He wanted

  to ravish her, burying his cock in her heat and pounding into her until they were both

  sated. The intense contradictions held him immobile.

  Then she went up on her toes and kissed him.

  It was a gentle kiss. A mere brush of her lips against his. But it had been freely

  given. Cassidy's head swam with emotions and needs as he struggled to keep the kiss

  light and undemanding.

  Then she stroked her tongue into his mouth and he lost it.

  Plunging his tongue past her lips, he ravished her mouth. His hands slid from her

  shoulders to band around her back, locking her tight against him. The hard nubs of her

  nipples pressed against his chest even through the fabric of her T-shirt. Cassidy was

  fiercely glad he'd unbuttoned his shirt earlier. It allowed him to feel the soft mounds of

  her breasts and their rigid tips all the better.

  Sliding one hand up her spine, he cupped the back of her head, threading his

  fingers through her hair. He tilted her head to one side, giving himself better access to

  her mouth as he continued to claim it as his own. His tongue stroked hers and he

  groaned as hers tangled willingly with his. She tasted sweet and addictive and he knew

  he'd never get enough of her.

  The hand that was low on her back slipped lower. He had to know. His fingers

  pushed beneath the fabric and felt only warm, pliant skin. His brain almost exploded.

  She was naked beneath the shirt. No. As his fingers skimmed higher, he encountered a

  thin string. His hand stilled as his mind computed what this meant. She was wearing a

  thong. Somehow that was just as arousing as if she'd been wearing nothing at all.

  Blythe whimpered as he stroked the cleft of her behind, tracing the path of the thin

  string. She pulled back, gasping for breath as she gazed up at him, her eyes almost blind

  with passion. Cassidy recognized her need. It was the same that pulsed through him.

  His chest heaving, he stared down at the woman still clasped tight in his arms. "If

  you're going to say no, say it now." He barely recognized his own voice, it was so low

  and guttural. The finesse he usually had with women was gone. This woman brought

  out all this primitive instincts, drove all else from his mind. Still, he would do nothing

  to scare her, to harm her. Nothing!

  In answer, she stepped away from him. Cassidy's hands dropped from her and

  fisted at his sides. His shirt was clinging to his back. Heat, wild and fierce, radiated

  from his aroused body. His balls ached and his cock throbbed. Still, he remained where

  he was.

  Blythe's eyes seemed to focus on his hands and he forced his fingers to relax. He

  didn't want to frighten her, didn't want her remembering another man striking her. Her

  gaze flew to his face and whatever she saw there seemed to satisfy her.

  Ever-so slowly, she held out her hand to him.

  Blythe desperately reminded herself to breathe. It wouldn't do for her to pass out in

  a heap at Cassidy's feet. Her heart was pounding so hard she was surprised that it

  didn't burst. Her entire body tingled, her breasts felt swollen and aroused and her

  pussy was wet, aching with a need she'd never felt before.

  Other men had touched her body and tried to kindle desire within her, but only this

  man had managed to do it. And he'd barely touched her. Fear crept into Blythe's mind,

  threatening to diminish the arousal, but by sheer will alone, she pushed it back. Just

  once in her life, she wanted to feel normal, wanted to truly desire a man. This might be

  her only chance. Once this episode with Adrian Prince was over, she'd leave New

  Orleans and begin a new life somewhere else and she'd never see Sam Cassidy again.

  Just the thought brought tears to her eyes and she blinked them back. He stood

  there waiting for her to decide. That alone gave her the strength to go forward. She'd

  never met a man like Cassidy before. He made her feel special. To him, she was more

  than just a pretty face and a lush body.

  His hands were fisted at his sides, but as she watched, his fingers relaxed. Her eyes

  jumped to his face. He knew she was afraid and he was doing his best to reassure her. It

  was her choice. She held her hand out to him and sighed when his closed around it
.

  She led him to the bed. Neither of them spoke as she slid her hands beneath his

  shirt and slipped it of his shoulders. His skin was slightly damp and his muscles

  jumped beneath her palms as she stroked them across his chest. He was so strong, yet

  always so gentle with her.

  "Blythe?"

  "Shh." She laid her finger over his lips. She didn't want to talk, didn't want to break

  the almost magical mood that seemed to surround them. Maybe it was because it was in

  the last vestiges of the night just before the dawn. Maybe it was because, deep inside,

  she was beginning to trust Cassidy. She knew she wanted him. He'd awoken something

  within her. Something she'd thought hadn't existed within her. He made her feel like a

  woman, with a woman's wants and needs, and she wanted this one chance to explore

  them before she had to leave this amazing man.

  She couldn't stay. That was a given. Jethro Prince had taken that option from her.

  She shuddered and Cassidy said her name again. Rather than answer, she gripped the

  hem of her shirt and drew it over her head, dropping it to the floor beside her. Cassidy

  sucked in a breath and then leaned down to brush a light kiss across her lips. "You are

  so beautiful," he breathed as he peppered her jaw and throat with kisses.

  She reached out blindly, clasping his shoulders for support as his lips continued

  downward. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing her tight nipples.

  Blythe whimpered as desire shot from her breasts to her pussy and back again as

  Cassidy continued to touch her.

  His breath was warm and moist against her breasts as he nuzzled first one and then

  the other. Blythe wanted more. Wanted his mouth and his tongue to ease the ache that

  seemed to swell within her. As if he'd heard her unspoken plea, he stroked his tongue

  across one taut peak, making her shudder with need. Then he blew on the hard bud

  before drawing it into his mouth and suckling.

  She slid her fingers into his hair and dug her nails into his scalp, pulling him closer.

  Cassidy groaned and suckled harder. Blythe could feel the moisture seeping from her

  pussy and sliding down her inner thigh. Her hips were swaying back and forth in a

  primal mating rhythm, silently urging Cassidy onward.

  He released her suddenly and surged upward. Taken off guard, she tumbled down