by Jodi Redford
Cass caught up with him at the bottom. “Are you crazy? If Pricilla or one of her thugs sees you, she’s going to know you’re off the tracer. Then what?”
“I’ll take my chances.” He yanked the door open and exited through the rear entrance of the vestibule. Outside, he was greeted by the rude squawking from a family of seagulls migrating toward the distant river.
A bang sounded as Cass stormed out after him and slammed the door. “You stubborn ass. You really do have a death wish, don’t you?”
He figured Cass would never understand why he’d rather take a bullet than have every known quality of himself stripped away and mutated into something unrecognizable. So he said nothing and instead headed toward the alleyway that led to the front of the buildings.
“I know you’re upset right now, but if you’d calm down for a second and look at this from a different perspective, you might realize this could be for the best.”
He slammed to a halt and glared at Cass. “There’s not one damn thing about this that’s good.”
“Yes, there is. It’s your chance at happiness again.” She sucked in a deep breath, her gaze beseeching. “It can give you a shot at making a life with Marabella.”
Caged tension coiled inside him like a cornered snake. “Stop inventing castles in the clouds, for fuck’s sake. She’s half angel and I’m a half-assed demon. Slap us together, and we’re the biggest cosmic joke of the century.”
Sadness crept into Cass’s eyes, and she rested her palm on his thudding heart. “You’re afraid to let her in here. That’s understandable, considering the way you were forced to live your life.”
“You’re wrong. I wasn’t forced to do anything.” He stepped back, making her hand drop and severing their connection. “I chose to be what I am.”
“Initially. But you didn’t ask for Nettie. You didn’t ask for what she ultimately turned you into—a cold, unfeeling killing machine.” The fierceness in Cass’s expression softened. “You signed up to be a soul collector, Sam. Not a ruthless killer who was ordered to steal souls. I don’t care if you were a demon without a conscience, that’s a big jump for anyone to have to make. It’s no wonder you chose to close yourself off from the Sam we all knew before Nettie sank her claws into you. It was the only way you could survive. But the trouble is you’ve clung to that recreated image of yourself for so long, you’re now scared to let it go.”
The coiled snake inside him bared its venomous fangs in warning. His fists balled at his sides. “I don’t need you psychoanalyzing me, Cass. Leave that bullshit for the lost souls your sister hauls over to the afterlife.”
He started walking again, this time determined not to be swayed from his primary goal—getting shit-faced drunk enough he wouldn’t be tormented with the damning truth Cass had just thrown at him. And the fact he couldn’t do a fucking thing to change any of it. She was right about him molding himself into a creature of survival. One who existed on his terms. And now—again—every semblance of control he’d fought and killed to cling to was being stripped from him.
Well fuck that. There was no damn way he was going down without a fight.
Marabella sat huddled on the couch, dazedly staring at the spot where Sam had stood minutes ago. Her entire life had been turned upside down and inside out.
An angel? It was impossible to wrap her mind around it.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
She turned her head and met Nikki’s assessing gaze. “I’m kind of freaked out right now.”
“Understandable. Learning your pop sported white wings requires some sinking-in time.”
She blinked at Nikki. “Do you think he actually had wings?”
“I’ve never met an angel, so I can’t say for sure. But if they do, I bet they retract or something. Otherwise it’d be a huge pain in the ass walking around with those things all the time. Though I imagine they wouldn’t exactly hurt when trying to score time with the ladies.” Nikki’s expression turned thoughtful. “Hmm, I wonder if the size of their wings are indicative of how big their—”
Marabella cleared her throat. “Uh, can we please change the subject? A little too much squick factor for me, considering we’re talking about my dad.”
“Oh yeah. Sorry.”
Gnawing the inside of her cheek, Marabella tried to block out all thoughts of angel sex, but then she recalled her own unlucky-at-love woes prior to losing her virginity to Sam. Or more to the point, the countless times a man dumped her after declaring she was too pure and innocent for him.
She nearly choked on a stunted cough. Holy crap. Could her angel blood be the instigator for her failed sex attempts all those years? Pondering that theory, she glanced at Nikki. “Hypothetically speaking, what’s the first thing that pops into your mind when you think of angels?”
“Big wings,” Nikki answered without hesitation. She shrugged when Marabella grimaced. “I could have said something else.”
Preferring not to dwell on what that likely something else had been, she prodded Nikki to come up with another possibility.
“I don’t know.” Nikki scratched her chin in contemplation. “White lighters? Purity?”
“Shit. I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
Marabella gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Nothing. It’s not important.” Still, she couldn’t help but wonder why Sam hadn’t been repelled by her purity. Back when she’d thought she’d been living under a curse, she’d assumed demons were immune to it. Keeping to that theory slightly, maybe he was resistant to her angel blood.
No, that didn’t make sense, considering he’d been corrupted by it. Obviously her blood had some effect on him. And judging from the way he’d stormed out of her apartment, it was a highly negative one.
Recalling the anguished torment that rode his face moments ago, her heart plummeted. He wasn’t happy with the changes the corruption had brought out in him. Some would probably say it served him right for duping her into having sex with him in the first place, but it still made her ache inside to see him hurting. Her belly in knots, she pushed up from the couch and walked to the window. Pressing her fingers to the pane, she surveyed the pedestrians milling around on the sidewalk. She didn’t spot Sam or Cass anywhere.
“My sis will look out for Sam.”
Marabella was surprised that Nikki had so easily read her thoughts. “Is it crazy that I’m worried for him?”
“Not nearly as crazy as you being in love with him.”
She rubbed her stomach in hopes of easing the anxious butterflies dive-bombing in there. “Am I that obvious?”
“Yep.”
She winced. Jeez. Cass hadn’t been lying about that blunt thing. The sad part though was that Nikki was right. Loving Sam was beyond crazy and just plain stupid. She wasn’t so foolish to think he loved her in return, or ever would. Like he’d said, love wasn’t even in his vocabulary. When you got down to it, she couldn’t have picked a worse person to fall for. And that was before accounting for the fact Sam was a demon. To think, she’d worried about their relationship being taboo because of her being a white witch. That didn’t hold a candle to her half-blood angel status.
A cramp shooting through her belly, she abandoned the window and went into her bathroom to grab an antacid. The chalky pill did nothing to alleviate her condition and only left a bitter taste in her mouth. Or maybe that was due to being hopelessly in love with a surly demon who was mad at her for breaking him.
Sick of listening to her tormented thoughts, she returned to the living room. “I’m going to go downstairs and try to get some work done.”
“I can give a hand.” Nikki clicked off the TV and hopped to her feet.
She knew Nikki was probably only following Cass’s orders to keep an eye on her in case Pricilla or one of her goons showed up, but the idea of having company was still a welcome one.
For the next several hours, she and Nikki kept busy tagging the boxes of handmade soaps that had come in from one o
f the vendors. Perhaps it was the soothing scent of lavender and chamomile that eventually relaxed her. Or it might have been Nikki’s nonstop chattering. Regardless, she managed to keep her mind off Sam for a whole whopping thirty minutes. Until she went upstairs and noticed that neither he nor Cass had returned.
“Where in the hell could they be?” A thought occurred to her. One that churned the dread in her belly all over again. She slid Nikki an anxious glance. “D-do you think they might have run into Pricilla?” Just as a host of horrific possibilities paraded through her mind, a banging noise sounded downstairs. She and Nikki both jumped before running toward the top of the stairway.
The sight of Sam and Cass heading up the steps banished the fear that’d resided within Marabella for the better part of the past five hours. She stared at Sam and waited for anger to wash over her for the worry he’d put her through, but the only thing she experienced was relief.
Nikki apparently didn’t have any problem showing her frustration as she yanked off her sneaker and lobbed it at Sam’s noggin. The shoe pegged him square in the forehead, and he grunted. A scowl overtaking his face, he jerked his gaze toward the top landing where she stood at Marabella’s side. His focus skipped right past his cousin and locked on Marabella. Something dark and intense flashed in his eyes.
Releasing his white-knuckled grip on the wooden side rail, he leaned down and snatched Nikki’s sneaker by its dangling shoelace before he continued ascending the steps with a tightly controlled gait that could only be described as predatory. Cass trailed behind him at a much slower, cautionary pace.
They reached the landing, and Sam tossed the shoe in the direction of Nikki’s feet. “Put that on and leave.”
“Oh hell no.” Nikki shoved a finger in Sam’s face. “You don’t get to stay out half the damn day and then show up and bark orders at me.”
Cass gave a pointed cough. “Nik, I think we better give Sam and Marabella some time alone.”
“Why? So he can yell at her too?” Nikki adopted a mulish slant to her mouth and plunked her hands on her hips. “Not gonna happen.”
Without warning, Cass grabbed her sister’s arm and pressed a button on the strange bracelet that encircled Nikki’s wrist. A second later they both vanished, leaving the lone sneaker behind.
Marabella shifted her focus back to Sam and discovered he was still watching her in that same inscrutable manner as before. A shiver of wariness lanced through her. That reaction was instantly replaced by fury—at herself. She refused to cower like a mouse stalked by a feral cat. No matter how dangerous and pissed that cat presently looked.
So instead she adopted an air of frosty anger. Thanks to studying her mom all these years, she figured she’d nailed that particular emotion down pat. “I take it your drunken escapade didn’t cool you off?”
“I’m not drunk. Or at least not nearly enough.”
“How unfortunate for you.”
“You don’t do bitchy well, Bella.”
Damn it. And here she was trying so hard. “If you’ve come back to apologize for being an ass, don’t bother.”
He stepped closer, ensuring she had to tip her head back to look him in the eye. “I’m here because you’re my responsibility.”
“No, I’m not. And you sure as hell don’t want me to be.”
“You’ve got that right, babe.”
His admission shouldn’t have possessed the power to hurt her, but it did. Forcing a chilly smile, she flicked her fingers dismissively. “Go then. I absolve you of your duties.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She bit her lip to hide its trembling. “I don’t need you to watch over me.”
“Yes. You do. Now stop arguing with me before I’m forced to haul you across my knee and spank you.” He stalked closer, forcing her to inch backward into the apartment.
“I’m not scared of you, Sam.”
“No? You should be.” His gaze flickered to her mouth. “Do you know what’s occupied my mind for the past five hours?” Apparently the question was only rhetorical, because he didn’t wait for her answer. “All the ways I’m going to corrupt you.”
“W-what do you mean?”
Sam wedged her against the archway leading into the kitchen. His hands slid with purposeful laziness down her collarbone until his thumbs rested in the vee of her cleavage. “I’m not a nice guy, Bella. Yeah, I saved a damn cat. And I even resisted the urge to strangle Nikki, three, possibly four times in the past forty-eight hours. That doesn’t make me any less bad of a person. Hell, I like being bad.” His fingers spanned outward and brushed over the swells of her breasts, making her nipples bead. “And I plan on enjoying being very bad. With you.”
“Sam—”
He leaned forward until his lips were a hairsbreadth away from hers. “The next time you open your mouth, I’m gonna put it to better use than talking.” With no further preamble, he caught her bottom lip between his teeth and gave it a tug before thrusting his tongue inside her mouth.
His kiss was like a firestorm, hot and all-consuming. Catching her breath an improbability, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. He grabbed the rear zipper on her tunic dress and tugged it down. Breaking their kiss, he spun her around to face the wall. The motion made her dizzy with excitement.
He made her dizzy with excitement.
With agonizing slowness, Sam slipped the dress from her shoulders and shimmied it along her torso and hips, eventually leaving the garment to pool at her feet. His palms cupped the curve of her ass before sliding inside her silk panties and kneading her flesh. She moaned.
A soft scuff sounded as Sam knelt behind her and coasted his hands down her legs, dragging her bikini with them. “You’ve got a perfect ass, Bella.” His teeth grazed her right butt cheek. “Biteable.” The rasp of his tongue soothed the sting he’d left behind. “Lickable.” He followed the crease of her ass with his finger and caressed her hidden pucker. “Fuckable.”
Her breath hitched, causing him to give a smoky chuckle that made her skin flush even more. “I think you’re intrigued by the possibility of me fucking your ass.”
“A-are you going to?” The notion scandalized as much as it aroused.
Sam made a tsking noise. “What did I tell you about opening your mouth?” He turned her around to face him again before stripping off his T-shirt and unbuckling his jeans. She didn’t know which worried her more—the wicked glint in his eyes, or the revolver holstered at his hip. He noticed her fixation on his gun and unclipped it from his belt. “I can’t even fire the damn thing, but it’s a habit to keep Lucy close.”
“Lucy?”
Sam said nothing more as he strode to the coffee table and placed the holstered weapon on top of one of her design books. The sinuous shift of sleek muscles beneath his velvety, bronzed skin drew her rapt fascination to the large tattoo imprinted on his back. She’d never noticed it before. Then again, she’d also never been treated to the sight of his backside either. And boy, wasn’t that a shame, considering how gorgeous it was.
Somehow she tore her gaze from the deep groove of his spine disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans and studied the tattoo again. She had just enough time to catch a glimpse of the faded section in the middle before Sam made an about-face and walked in her direction. The intense look in his eyes dispersed any thought of asking him what the deal was with his tattoo. He popped the buttons on his fly and shucked down his jeans. Kicking the pants aside, he approached her and stroked his cock. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Wetness gathered between her legs, and her mouth went dry.
Oh goddess, how she wanted to taste him. So much, it was a physical ache in her core. Her legs trembled, and she whimpered.
“On your knees, baby.”
She didn’t even think twice about his firm command. The plush Berber scrunched beneath her calves as she settled in place and reached for him.
“No hands. I only want the heat of your mouth wrapped around me.”
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She obediently dropped her arms and slid her lips over the silky gland of Sam’s cock. His abdomen quivered and a barely discernable intake of breath shuddered from him. Pride and pleasure flowed through her in a heady wave. The knowledge she was affecting him was intoxicating. Liberating. Emboldened and bursting with feminine power, she coasted her tongue over the rigid vein running along the underside of his cock and flicked the tiny indent bisecting the cap and shaft with teasing, fluttery licks.
“Fuck.” Groaning, Sam planted his fists against the wall and flexed his hips in a desperate attempt to get her to take more of him.
She increased her suction on just the head, causing him to curse a blue streak. She looked up at him through her lashes and caught her breath at the exquisite masculinity of Sam. The muscles in those broad shoulders and sculpted pecs were bunched and strained with tension. A single bead of sweat trickled down his sternum, marking a path toward his navel. Riveting as each sight was, none came remotely close to rivaling the unadulterated beauty of his face while lost in ecstasy. Without thinking, she lifted one hand and stroked it along his hip.
The next thing she knew, Sam pulled out of her mouth and caged her wrists in his hands. He made that aggravating tsking sound again. “What did I tell you about no touching?”
“I couldn’t help myself.”
He released her and bent to sweep her into his arms. She assumed he was going to carry her into the bedroom, which left her wide open for surprise when he strode into the kitchen instead. He settled her facedown on the dining table. She started to scoot onto her side, but Sam tugged her toward him and situated her so she was draped over the edge.
“Grip the side of the table, and don’t you dare fucking let go or I’ll spank this sweet little ass.”
“But—” She broke off with a yelp when an unexpected smack stung across her left butt cheek. “You rotten bastard. I didn’t let go.”
“Guess I couldn’t help myself.”
“Very funny.”
Sam’s fingers suddenly slicked over her labia, and she jolted before arching against his hand.
