Night Betrayed

by Joss Ware

  It occurred to him then, as the heat of the moment ebbed temporarily, that her neck and throat had been devoid of the long cord that she’d been trying to hide before. He didn’t remember feeling or seeing it the other day either, but he’d only had his hands up her shirt instead of it being open . . .

  Selena slipped into a room halfway down the hall and Theo followed her, closing the door behind him. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this: a very cozy, very inviting room that was clearly a woman’s boudoir. A bed piled high with pillows of all shapes and sizes, in shades of green and blue. A swath of some light, shimmery material hanging from the ceiling, draped half over the bed—which, by the way, was at least a queen, maybe a king. Hot damn. Heavy bedposts marked each corner, and it was covered with a thick quilt or blanket. And a plush rug made from scraps of material tied and woven together covered the scarred wooden floor. A long triangle of gold from the lowering sun cut the room, shining through a westerly window.

  “Wow,” he said, moving toward her. “Not what I expected.” His heart was pounding. He couldn’t wait to get her on that lush bed, covering her equally lush body with his . . . preferably with nothing between them.

  She put up her hands as if to stop him, and they landed right on the planes of his chest. “I’m not sure whether I should be offended or charmed by that comment.”

  “Charmed,” he said, capturing her mouth again, sliding his hand under her open shirt. “Definitely charmed.” Oh, yes.

  “This is Vonnie’s room,” she said, pulling away with a quick little pirouette. Tossing a heavy-lidded, catlike smile over her shoulder, she added, “I don’t think she’d like it if we messed up her bed.”

  Theo stopped. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No, not at all,” she said, and gestured to a large . . . bookshelf. “I was hoping you’d help me move this down to the supply room.”

  “Down the stairs?” he asked, all amorous thoughts fleeing. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it; it was that this whole event was taking a much different turn than he’d anticipated.

  “Well, yes. Because, if it doesn’t get moved down there, Vonnie will want to know why, since that’s why we sneaked off together.” Her eyes narrowed in delight at his obvious consternation.

  “I wouldn’t call that sneaking off . . .”

  But she continued. “I realized that if I’m going to mess around with a man half my age, I might as well take advantage of all the benefits—which include not only having you do a little heavy lifting, but also seeing all those muscles in action.”

  The way she said that . . . all those muscles in action . . . in that low, throaty voice . . . made his knees go weak. Damn. Was this how it was? A little fluttering of the eyelashes, a little flattery, and a guy was no longer master of his own mind? Not that he was complaining . . . because pretty soon, her knees were going to be jelly too. He grinned.

  “Shall I take off my shirt, then?” he asked, half serious, half joking. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the show.”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she replied. And crossed her arms, waiting.

  Theo hesitated only a minute and then yanked his stretched-out T-shirt up and over his head, then tossed it to her. She caught it neatly and he had a moment of pure delight when he felt her attention, her eyes, score over him. “Shall I turn around?” he asked mockingly.

  But he knew that, for a self-professed geek, he was ripped enough for any woman to look twice. That was something that had happened since the Change, when he found himself doing a lot more demanding physical activity than in 2010.

  “I’m just noticing,” she said in a decidedly husky voice, “that your wound is gone. Hardly even a scar.”

  He looked down at his torso, smoothing his fingers over where the wound would have been. She was right. There was nothing there. “That’s wild,” he said. “It’s only been a week.”

  “Wild? Impossible is more like it,” she replied, reaching to touch him. Her fingers skated lightly over his chest and he felt the prickling swarm his body, scattering to every nerve ending. The edge of her shirt hem and its cool buttons brushed his bare skin. He drew in a steadying breath, feeling her fingers press more heavily as his chest rose.

  “If you want me to move that bookshelf,” he said, using every ounce of control to step back, “you’d best let me get on it. Or we’re going to be messing up that bed, Vonnie or not.”

  Selena stepped closer, back into his space. “A little impatient, are we, young man?” Her fingers settled onto his shoulders and she looked up at him. Her lips curved mockingly. “You see, that’s one advantage of age. We older folk know how to enjoy anticipation. We have more patience. We can—”

  With a little annoyed growl, he yanked up a handful of her shirt and dragged her against him, his mouth cutting her off. She chuckled beneath his kiss, then slid away to nibble on his jaw.

  “Work before pleasure,” she said, trailing her tongue sassily around the inside of his ear.

  “My mother used to have a word for people like you,” he said, stepping back. “Hellion. That’s what you are. A hellion.”

  “What’s wrong, little boy? Can’t keep up with an old girl like me?”

  He paused from where he’d turned to lift the bookshelf. “Just wait, Selena. Just wait.”

  The bookshelf was heavy, but mostly awkward; and he had no trouble carrying it down the nice, wide staircase to the supply room—which did turn out to be on the first floor, and much more convenient. He realized she’d been teasing him all along, and he found himself alternately laughing and mentally shaking his head about Selena.

  How could a woman who lived with the dying every day, who looked death in the eye, have such an off-beat, silly sense of humor at times?

  Maybe she had to, in order to face the ugliness and sorrow she had to contend with.

  But now . . . he fully intended to give her something else to focus on.

  Theo turned to her. “Now that the work’s done . . .”

  Chapter 6

  “What about some pleasure?”

  Selena’s belly dropped as Theo closed the supply room door behind him, leaning against it as if nothing would move him. As their eyes met, a wash of heat and anticipation rushed through her and darn if her knees felt as if they’d give way. Darn.

  She’d hardly been able to keep her eyes from his broad-shouldered torso . . . shirtless and sleek, his olive skin devoid of hair and without an extra bulge or crease anywhere. He was more beautiful than she remembered from the day she’d revived him. Obviously, life agreed with him.

  She wasn’t sure whom to thank for this gift, but Selena was not one to question miracles. She’d seen her share of—and lack of—them enough in her life.

  “My place is a little more private,” she reminded him. He looked as if he were stalking her . . . watching, waiting for her next move. Uncertain, wary, but in an anticipatory way.

  “No more detours?” he asked.

  She shook her head, unable to talk. Her mouth was dry, her heart was racing.

  When was the last time she’d had sex? Longer than she liked to admit.

  When was the last time she’d had sex with a guy like him? Never.

  “No, this way,” she managed to say as he turned to open the door. “My room connects.”

  “That’s convenient,” he said in a voice that could only be described as a purr. And closed the door. “Very convenient.”

  Selena led him through the back of the supply room to a small exit in the rear, where stairs led up to her bedroom, which was on the other end of the hall from Sam, and about halfway from Vonnie’s room. She’d decided about six years ago that she’d rather Vonnie hear what was going on in her room—not that anything ever did—than her son.

  And vice versa.

  No sooner did they move into the room than Theo was there, right there, his mouth on hers, his hands pulling the shirt from her shoulders. She began to shrug out of it, then realized that ther
e was too much daylight and he’d see all her stretch marks and bulges—a crime next to his young body—and tried to pull it back over to cover her.

  “We’ll have none of that,” he murmured, firmly removing her hands and sliding the cotton from her shoulders, taking care not to scrape her wounds. “You’ve been ogling me . . . now it’s my turn.”

  Before she could reply, he had her bra undone and eased it down along her arms, leaving her breasts bare in the warm sun that shone through the window. Then he gathered her back up against him, torso to torso . . . her curves pressing up against his solid muscle, warm skin to warm skin, the tenderness from her ganga marks hardly noticeable. His arm locked around her back as he played with her mouth, his lips sliding over hers, fitting them sweetly together and then exploring with his tongue.

  She kissed him back, closing her eyes when the heat flooded her, their long kiss turning sleek and languorous.

  Theo directed them smoothly to her bed, which she’d actually made this afternoon in anticipation of the possibility of messing it up tonight. It wasn’t quite as inviting as Vonnie’s, with all the pillows and the thick blankets—

  And then she stopped thinking about anything but the large, warm hands covering her bare breasts as she settled back down onto the bed. He had found her nipples, which now hardened into sensitive little tips, and he used his thumb to brush over one of them—back and forth, back and forth and around and around, until those little shooting pleasure-darts became long, strong tugs down deep below her belly . . . where she was already swelling and throbbing, waiting for him.

  Theo was on the bed next to her, one hand trailing over her breast, the other propping him up on the mattress next to her as he bent to kiss along her chin and jaw, and over to the side of her neck.

  “You’ve got a hell of a body,” he said, low and rough into her ear. “I can’t wait to see all of it.”

  His hand left her breast and eased down over her belly, down beneath the waist of her jeans and to where his fingers threaded gently into the sensitive hair there. Gently, he made little circles with his fingers, tight beneath her panties, and let their very tips skim over the top of her labia . . . teasing, promising, making her shift her hips in a little impatient jiggle. Yesss.

  Her eyes closed, and when she felt his warm, moist lips close over her breast, Selena jerked and gave a soft little cry. He chuckled, warm and close, over her nipple, then drew it long and hard into his mouth, sending another battery of those shooting pleasure-darts to her belly and below.

  Suddenly, his fingers slipped lower, down into where she was hot and wet, finding her pulsing little core. She stiffened, jolted at the sudden surprise slides . . . and then with one little stroke, like the flick of a switch, his magic fingers set her shuddering and exploding into a big, hot orgasm.

  “Oh,” she managed when she caught her breath, still feeling the delicious little heat licks spreading through her thighs and belly. Selena smiled as he shifted to kiss her, feeling better than she had in forever.

  “The best is yet to come,” he murmured, as if reading her mind.

  “I’m counting on it,” she replied, and, still loose and tingly, reached for the button of his shorts.

  He wasn’t shy about helping her; and in moments, she had her hands full of a very happy, very hot and thick Theo. He let his head rest back and his eyes close as she gave him a few strokes for good measure, slow and easy . . . and then tight and fast, tighter and faster, until his lips flattened to white and she felt his body gather up, ready to go over. And then, she eased up, slowing and watching the change on his face.

  His eyes popped open, his expression filled with chagrin. “That was almost too easy,” he said in a tight voice. He covered her hand with his, slowing her lazy strokes even further.

  “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” she asked, leaning over to kiss him with a deep thrust of tongue.

  “How about we get on the same playing field, so to speak?” Theo said, removing her hand from where she still grasped him, and getting down to business with her jeans.

  Selena didn’t have time to worry about stretch marks or the wobbliness of her thighs, because he was fast and smooth. One minute, she was still packaged up, tight and swollen and hot in her jeans and panties, and the next, she was bare on the bed . . . with a solid, warm body lining up next to hers.

  His knee slid between hers, riding up gently to pressure her core as he gathered her close, kissing her sleekly on the mouth. The prod of his erection against her belly gave her a little shiver of anticipation, and when he slipped a hand down to cup her breast, caressing and stroking lightly over her nipple, she arched into him, burying her face in his silky throat, feeling the ramrodding of his heart.

  This is good. This is really good.

  Selena felt the matching throb between her legs with every draw of his lips over her nipple, the tease of his knee up into her, the damp of skin plastered against skin, salty and warm . . . his smell, masculine and fresh . . .

  She was done with the foreplay. With a dangerous little nip at his collarbone, Selena pulled away, planting her hands on his chest and shoving him back down when he would have risen to follow.

  “Age before beauty,” she said, straddling him quickly.

  For some reason, he found this wildly amusing, but his face lost all humor when she slipped him perfectly inside her and slid right down. Oh.

  They both just froze for a minute, reveling in the beauty of the sensation. Selena tightened her muscles around him and his eyes, half-hooded, rolled back, flew open again. She smiled and did it again and then shifted in her position, enough that he could feel it . . . but that she could really feel it.

  Just a little rocking motion. Pleasure rippled through her.

  “Selena,” he said in a voice that sounded thin as a strained thread. “Are you trying to kill me . . . again?”

  Her hands settled firmly on his pectoral muscles, she leaned forward and caught up his mouth for a good kiss. Rose then lowered her hips, and then he grasped them, held her in position, high and steady, as he slammed up and then eased down . . . then again, hard and fast and intense.

  The orgasm caught her by surprise and she gasped as she pulled her face up and away from Theo, the waves rolling through her as she shuddered around him, her elbows weak and threatening to collapse. He thrust up once more and then yanked her down onto him as he gave a last heartfelt groan that sounded like her name.

  She felt him explode inside her, felt the undulating of their bodies meld as she collapsed on him, hot and breathless and glorious.

  Glorious.

  She didn’t move for a long time, her head resting on his chest, feeling the air rush in and out, lifting and lowering, the thud of his heart. The warmth of skin, of man, of comfort. His arm slid around her, his fingers stroking up and down her spine as if to say he was feeling the same way.

  Then she ruined it.

  She opened her eyes, and her gaze fell on the window. And she saw the low sun sending brilliant orange-red rays into the sky.

  Night was coming.

  Theo uncurled his toes and rebooted his brain. That . . . was . . .

  He had no words to describe it, even to himself . . . so he didn’t even try. Instead, he held Selena, his face full of her hair; her warm, smooth skin burning into his. She felt so damn good.

  This first round of lovemaking . . . well, it hadn’t been his best. He’d been a little quicker on the trigger than he liked, but at least he’d made sure she was taken care of. There would be a second round, and a third . . . and, he hoped, a multitude more. As soon as he recovered.

  Then his eyes flew open. Son of a bitch.

  He wondered if this was a good time to bring up the fact that they’d done nothing for contraception. He fucking knew better than that. He’d even been prepared, as much as one could be nowadays. Especially in a world where the more babies being made, the better to recreate the human race. But that wasn’t reason enough to be sloppy. But t
hen again . . . What were the chances?

  Before he could speak, she shifted and rolled off him, her arm sliding along his torso, her fingers giving him a little pat of what he interpreted as thanks as they trailed away and now she lay next to him. The open window brought a welcome shift of air over his warm, damp skin.

  “Um,” Theo said, manning up. “Crap, Selena . . . I didn’t plan that very well.”

  Her lips curved, but she didn’t turn. “Dare I ask what you mean, or is it going to get me in trouble?”

  Poor choice of words. He plowed on. “I didn’t—we didn’t—well, there’s the chance you could get pregnant.”

  She’d been lying there next to him, looking up at the ceiling, just as he had been. Now she rolled to face him and their noses were too close. Selena shifted back a bit, and her golden, wide-lipped face came into better focus.

  “There’s a chance, yes,” she said with a little laugh. “But not only am I past my prime in that way, I’m also old enough to know when I’m most likely to conceive . . . and right now, I’m not.” She smiled, and reached over to brush her finger over his lips. “So I planned for both of us.”

  She was so beautiful it made his breath catch— Beautiful physically, and in her confidence and . . . something else . . . wisdom. As if nothing surprised her. As if she’d seen it all, experienced it all . . . and could drag herself through it. And still have a sense of humor.

  This was, he thought again, a woman who’s lived. Interesting. Compassionate. Confident.

  Something loosened inside him as he looked at the delicate lines at the corners of her eyes and in the paper-thin skin beneath them, the little grooves cupping the corners of her mouth, the curve of her cheekbones and slender nose. He noticed for the first time the faintest brush of freckles over her skin. Her lips were wide and full and her thick, heavy hair tumbled over her face and neck.

  She glanced behind him, toward the window, and he saw the change in her expression. Subtle, but noticeable. She looked back at him.

  “What is it?” he asked.