Ways in the Guardian: A Menage Romance Book Collection

by Barbara Downey

  He slipped forward and wrapped his mouth over her still clad nipple, running his tongue over the fabric until it turned wet and cool. Suddenly his eyes were the last thing on her mind. He blew a deliberate breath across it eliciting a series of gasps from her throat. He used his teeth to tug the cup down, freeing her breast, and then ran his tongue in a light circle around the dark tip of her mound.

  “You are playing with me.”

  “Yes,” he responded. “Is that a problem?”

  She ran her tongue over her lips. “Not yet.”

  He gave a very masculine chuckle and wrapped his lips over her pert peak. His tongue gave a languid swirl, rolling in a delicate circle over and over again. Her eyes rolled back.

  “Oh, Luke...” she gasped.

  He didn't respond. Fingers, light as a whisper, drew down her belly and hooked into the brim of her panties. With a gentle, yet persistent, tug they slipped down her thighs and hooked around one ankle. His hand cupped the core of her womanhood and he ran his palm flatly over her cleft.

  “So warm.” One finger circled her opening. “So wet. Are you ready for me, Sofie?”

  “Yes!” she gasped.

  “Let's find out.”

  He pressed the single digit into her, one leisurely inch at a time. It was the softest invasion. She was so acutely aware of the feeling of him, crooking his finger ever so slightly. Her walls clenched around him, begging for more. When she felt herself go damp he added a second finger, his thumb swept over the pearl of her pleasure.

  She thrust against it.

  “Luke.”

  “Not yet. Not yet, Sofie.”

  He was tenderly relentless. His fingers moved inside of her, his mouth staying at her nipple, kissing and leaking the peak. Her hips thrust up, over and over again. It felt so good, but not quite enough.

  “More, please, Luke...more!”

  He gave her nipple one last kiss and slithered down her body with a grace she hadn't known a man could have. She managed one breath before his mouth closed over the pearl at the hood of her core. Her body collapsed against the bed.

  His tongue was surprisingly frantic, in counter to the slow pummeling of his fingers. A weight built between the two points, growing with every motion. She reached down, knotting her fingers in his dark hair, holding him in just the right spot.

  “There,” she whispered. “Oh, there.”

  He didn't respond, merely redoubled his efforts between her thighs. The weight grew, and grew, until her skin felt too tight for her body. Her eyes flew open and her mouth went slack. An instant later that pressure broke and she was flooded with desperate ecstasy. Waves of indulgent satisfaction rocked her, overtook her, and left her mind blissfully blank.

  When she came down from the high he had pillowed his cheek against her inner thigh. His eyes were closed. He looked surprisingly peaceful.

  “Luke?” she asked.

  “Yes?” He didn't open his eyes, but she could almost swear she saw a blue light swimming behind the closed lids.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Shouldn't I be asking you that?” he sounded amused.

  “If you have to ask me that, you weren't paying attention.”

  He chuckled and laid a soft kiss against her skin. A soft aftershock made the skin twitch. It drew a little sound from her throat.

  “Do you need more?”

  She paused before answering, “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  By the time the latest hour of the night was upon them, Sofie was certain that he had left no part of her untouched. She had never had a more attentive lover, and couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with his pants never coming off.

  The sky was just beginning to lighten when he tugged his shirt back on. Sofie was tucked beneath her blankets, her eyes barely wanting to open.

  “Luke?” she asked sleepily.

  He knelt over her and pressed a final kiss to her lips. “Yes?”

  “Will I see you again?”

  He thought it over. “I shouldn't.”

  “But?”

  “But yes, Sofie, I think you will.”

  “Good.” She heard him opening the bedroom door when she asked. “Why do your eyes glow?”

  “It's part of my condition.”

  In her state of sexual intoxication and desperate need for sleep that explanation made perfect sense. Already she was beginning to form an outlandish, perfectly feasible, idea. “Okay...it's pretty.”

  “I'm glad you think so.”

  The door closed behind with a delicate click, and she let herself sink into post-coital dreams.

  *****

  “Man, you cannot see her again.”

  Rashawn passed the ball to Luke who dribbled it up and took a shot, it swished carelessly through the net.

  “Why not?”

  “Coach is starting to suspect something. Everyone can see you aren't actually eating. If you are going to have a woman you might as well-”

  “I'm not...having her. I'm...seducing her.”

  “You've been seducing her all damn season. Months now, man. What's up?”

  “I just wanna take my time.”

  “Why?” Rashawn asked. “Woman is clearly all about you.”

  Luke retrieved the ball and tossed it back to Rashawn who took his own shot.

  “Do you think so?”

  “Man, you are an idiot if you think she ain't.”

  “Neilsen!”

  The voice boomed across the court, and all the players came to a halt. Twelve heads swiveled in the direction of Luke, or the Coach, in various states of interest.

  Coach Bastian Hewlette was a massive man, with arms roughly the same size and shape as tree trunks.

  “Get over here, now! The rest of you get back to practice.”

  Rashawn gave Luke a sympathetic look before turning to go join the others. Slowly the court was filled with the echo of men shouting to one another, and orange rubber slapping against polished wood.

  Luke jogged over to Coach Hewlette. “Yes, Coach?”

  “My office.”

  Hewlette turned his back on Luke and stomped off.

  The office was more like a king's study, in Luke's opinion. The large dark desk was flanked by bookcases ladder with volumes on business, banking, basketballs, and more. Some of the books were ridiculously out of date. Hewlette stomped around the desk and slapped his prodigious body into a chair.

  Luke knew that he was in trouble. Coach Hewlette's eyes were always a particular shade of black that made it difficult to navigate the pupil from the iris. Right now, however, there was a brightness to them, a dark shimmer than bespoke the man's barely contained anger.

  “It ends now.”

  Luke opened his mouth to ask what was going on.

  “Don't,” Coach boomed. “Don't you dare open that piss-boy mouth and lie to me. I know what you were, I made you boy, I made every goddamned one of you and I won’t have you acting like I don't know when one of my players is off with some...wench.”

  Luke felt his body go rigid. “She's not a wench.”

  Hewlette snorted. “She's got a kid and no husband, we both know what she is.”

  “I don't know what the problem is. I'm playing fine, better than fine.”

  “For now. What happens when she finds out what kind of monster you are and leaves you? Or worse, what if she doesn't leave you? Sooner or later she'll be dead. I need your head level, boy.”

  Luke shook his head. “I care about her.”

  “Stupid.”

  There was something about the way the coach hissed out that single word that had Luke looking up. There was a mix of pity and disgust in those dark eyes.

  “What's going on?”

  Coach Hewlette shook his head. “You were my first player, my first creation. You know exactly what happens when a woman gets too close to know who we are, what we are.”

  Luke strained, but could no longer hear the sounds of practice going on the court.
>
  “Coach...what have you done?”

  “You know...”

  Luke shook his head, backing away slowly. “I haven't fed from her; I haven't told her what we are. You don't have to do this.”

  “It's too late. I've already sent them.”

  Luke was running before he knew what he was going to do.

  *****

  “Mom! Rashawn Wilson is at the door!” Hayden cried out cheerfully.

  “What?” she asked, setting down her tongs, leaving a pork chop cooling on a wire rack. She flicked the stove top off and peaked around the corner. Grandma Lily was standing to one side of the front door, with Hayden bouncing near her legs. Beyond them was a tall man with elegant cornrows, wearing a practice uniform.

  “Rashawn Wilson! He's Luke's best friend.”

  Sofie glanced from her son to Rashawn for confirmation.

  “Ma'am,” he said from the space of the front door.

  “Don't just stand there, young man,” Grandma Lilly said. “Come in, come in.”

  As if some great weight had been lifted from his shoulders the basketball star stepped over the threshold. “I don't mean to intrude.”

  “Nonsense!” Grandma Lily linked her arm through his and pulled him into the living room. She stopped after two steps. “I don't mean to be rude, but you are shaking like a leaf. Has something happened?”

  Rashawn glanced across the span of the living room. There was a heaviness to his gaze that turned her stomach into ice.

  “What's wrong?”

  He glanced between the small family. “I'd like to talk with you alone, ma'am.”

  Grandma Lily unlinked herself from the male and placed her hands on Hayden's shoulders. “Come along, sweetie, let's get you some dinner.”

  They retreated to the kitchen, and despite the short distance away, Sofie suddenly felt very much alone.

  “It's Luke, isn't it?”

  “I'm gonna ask you a question, and I need you to be honest.”

  She swallowed a lump in her throat that she hadn't known had formed. “Okay.”

  “How honest has Luke been with you?”

  She didn't need to ask what Rashawn meant. “About his...condition?”

  Rashawn's face fell. “So he did tell you.”

  She shook her head, “Nothing specific. But...well...”

  “Well what?”

  “I'm not a complete idiot, Rashawn. I've seen him move, I've seen his eyes glow, he doesn't eat, and in the past three weeks I have come to realize that I haven't seen him in the daylight....ever.”

  “So, you know?”

  She held up her hand. “I've come to a conclusion. I'm waiting on Luke to tell me what the particulars of his...condition...are.”

  “I think that choice is about to be taken away from him. The coach is not happy about how close you two have gotten.”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “I can't say too much. There are rules. But the team is on its way over.”

  Sofie felt her brows knitting, even as her heart did a hard flip. “Why?”

  Rashawn ran a dark hand over his darker hair. “Because Coach thinks you need to go.”

  The word 'go' had never been so filled with meaning. She trembled. There was a part of her that wanted to crumble into a ball, to whimper and give up and cry. Then she heard Hayden's laugh from the kitchen. The fear evaporated, replaced by a cold anger. No one put her child in danger.

  “What do I need to do?”

  “Stay here.”

  “Is that a rule?” She remembered him standing at the doorway. “They can't come in without my invitation?”

  “It'll keep them out for a while, but they won’t stay that way. Enough of them push and it won’t much matter.”

  “Alright, what else.”

  “I'll tell you.”

  *****

  He had never run so far, so fast, in all his existence. He knew, if he tried, he could move as a blur, but he would arrive at Sofie's exhausted. He needed his strength to fight. He only hoped it wouldn't be too late.

  It wasn't just Sofie that he worried for, little Hayden with his big smile and Grandma Lily who had such a warm heart. Sofie had not been the only one who had found a way into her heart. He wanted to protect them, all of them.

  The sounds of fighting became clear the moment he entered the apartment complex. He was not surprised, at least not until Sofie's floor became apparent. His fellow teammates, who he had been sure would breach the invisible defense of Sofie's front door, were laid out on the ground. Many of them wounded, and only two still up.

  “Sofie?”

  “Busy!” she called.

  Not for long, he decided. He charged the last two. They were only half paying attention to him. He took one down in a rush of inhuman speed and the other tried to jump on his back. Luke spun, only to see a broken broom handle pierce the athlete's chest. The player went rigid, like a corpse, and then collapsed into a heap of dust. Luke followed the broken length of wood with his eyes until he landed on Sofie's face.

  “This...this was all you?”

  Sofie fixed him with a dark look. “No one threatens my son.”

  He loved her, in that moment, with her eyes so bright and fierce, he loved her. Her lips were fixed into a grim line, her shoulders were rigid.

  “I am not here to threaten Hayden, or you, or Ms. Lily.”

  “Or me,” a deep voice said. “I hope.”

  “Rashawn?” Luke asked. “Is that you?”

  Rashawn stepped out of the shadow of Sofie's hallway. “Who do you think warned your lady?”

  “My friend, I do not know how to thank you.”

  “Don't worry about it.” Rashawn answered. “We got better things to worry about.”

  “Coach...” Luke said.

  “That's the one. What do you want to do?”

  Luke thought about it. “Send the ones back to him who can go back. Tell coach I'm retired.”

  “You sure?”

  Luke looked at Sofie, who hadn't lowered her weapon an inch. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

  It took a little while to clean up the hallway. Sofie did eventually put the broom up. Hayden was filled with a million questions, and Rashawn left with what remained of the Night Talons.

  It took a while to get Hayden down for bed, but the excitement eventually wore off and he passed out on the couch, tucked against Grandma Lily's hip. Luke was beginning to relax, himself, until he got a look of Sofie's eyes.

  “If you've got a minute,” her voice was flat, “I'd like a moment of your time.”

  He should have seen it coming. He might not understand it, but it was obvious that she was angry. He nodded. “Alright, where?”

  She motioned for him to follow her into the bedroom. When the door closed she invited him to sit.

  “You should be the one resting.”

  “I can't, and that's part of the problem. I should be able to. The immediate danger is over. But I can't. I want to go hug my son, and tell him everything is just fine, but I am shaking too much to do it. I killed a guy tonight. I don't care that he was...god...I can't even say it.”

  “Vampire,” Luke finished for her. “He was a vampire.”

  She cursed and threw her arms up. “You should have told me.”

  “I didn't know how.”

  She whirled on him, her eyes bright. “The moment you knew it could put my son in danger, Luke. That's when. It's common sense.”

  “You are right.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I said you are right, where you expecting something else?”

  “I was expecting an argument.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “If I believed you were wrong, I'd argue. But the fact is I made a poor choice. Tell me how I can fix it.”

  “Just like that?”

  He nodded. “Yes, just like that. Would arguing fix it? I could try...”

  “No,” she cleared her throat. “Arguing wouldn't fix it.”

  He sl
id off the bed and unto his knees. “Sofie, I am very sorry for making you go through what you went through. If you never want to see me again, say it and I will never be in your sight. Just tell me.”

  The puffed out her lips and blew out a breath, “Luke, get off the floor. If you really want to apologize, please, just tell me everything.”

  “Where would you like me to start?”

  “At the beginning, I suppose.” She shook her head, “We could start with your name.”

  “My name is Luke Nielsen.”

  “Has it always been?”

  “Close to. Lucas Niel's son is pretty much the same throughout time.”

  “Throughout time, how old are you?”

  “Not too old, really. I'm American, and always have been, so there is that. My family came over with the Irish, indentured servants in the south. When I was young I had never heard of basketball, or anything beyond the farm where we worked.”

  “How did you...what did you?”

  “How did I become a vampire?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She took a few steps across the room and took a seat on the side of the bed.

  “Coach, well he was a circus man then, freak-show things. He saw something in me, I can't tell you what, not because I don't want to but because I don't know. Maybe he just saw someone he could lie to, maybe something else...I don't know. But he took me on and kept me on for a few years, until I felt like I owed him and then...then he turned me. It's been going since there.”

  “I'm sorry.” She reached across the span of their space and took his hand.

  “I'm fine now, I think. I didn't expect to stand up to him today. I...I don't know.”

  “Will you tell me what it's like?”

  “It's hard to explain. I...I am stronger, but I don't mean to be. I need to feed, but not as often as the books say.”

  “How often?”

  “Once or twice a year. I don't need to kill when I do it, but some do it by accident.”

  “Okay, do you...is that why you can't…uhh...get aroused.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Oh, I'm aroused, but without fresh blood in my body I can't get hard.”

  “Oh.”

  “I'm sorry, Sofie.”

  “It's all right,” she squeezed his hand. “Well, it's almost alright.”

  “How can I make it completely alright?” he whispered.