Medusa's Heart: A Contemporary Paranormal Erotic Romance Novel

by Joey W. Hill

  She didn’t know how he’d signaled Charlie, but she wasn’t out of the picture. The woman knelt by the bed, her fingertips grazing Medusa’s side as she oriented herself to her body and slipped a hand beneath, finding Medusa’s engorged clit to stroke and pinch, rub in a way that had her spiraling toward that release, particularly as John continued to send reverberations through all her slick tissues with every thrust.

  “Please…”

  “Now. Go now.”

  She toppled over that edge, still trying to hold onto something, but what she wanted to hold was holding her, and that was what she needed. He jetted into her, making a noise between a snarl and a groan, his grip on her so secure she was sure she’d have bruises shaped like his fingers. She didn’t mind.

  Charlie kept pace with them throughout, ensuring that Medusa felt the full pleasure of the climax from beginning to end. When Medusa was coming down, and her body was becoming too sensitive for intimate touch, Charlie picked up on that, changing her strokes to feather-light movements that increased Medusa’s tiny jerks and aftershock spasms. She was murmuring, a soothing kind of singsong that helped Medusa level out her breathing as she rested her forehead against her hands. John curled his strong arm around her waist, his palm cupping her breast as he pressed a kiss to her bared neck.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured. “You’re overwhelming.”

  When he turned them so that they could spoon together on the bed, she noticed Charlie and her oils had disappeared. She hadn’t even felt the rock of the trailer as the woman slipped away. “Should we have…”

  She wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence, but John picked up on her meaning and answered it. “No. She serves Yvette. Her pleasure is the vampire’s to command. Don’t worry. Yvette will reward her for caring for her guests so well. I’ll make sure she knows how pleased we were.”

  She accepted that. “Is it like this…in your world? For this isn’t your world, is it?”

  “No. Yvette’s world, the world of the Circus, is kind of a dark Disneyworld. The amusement park I described. You remember?”

  “I do.” Now that she was so close to his world, she might get to see it. Mightn’t she? Then she reminded herself she might have lost her claws, but outside the Circus she would never pass as a normal human.

  “Easy. Don’t let go of what Charlie gave you.” He’d sensed her tension, and pressed his lips to her neck again. “You can sleep here, Medusa.”

  He’d also apparently felt that, her struggle against it, wondering how much on her guard she needed to stay. “We’re safer here than anywhere else. Yvette is scary as hell, and she lives up to that reputation, but once you’re her guest, you’re under her protection unless you break one of the big rules. MyTech won’t find us here. If they did, I wouldn’t want to be the one facing her if they so much as try to jiggle the locks she puts around this place.”

  He held her closer. “Sleep,” he said again. “Tomorrow we can explore.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  They slept for hours. One of the times they surfaced, John explained in a groggy voice that multiple portal jumps exacted a cost, and sleep was payment. When Medusa awoke at last, it was mid-morning, and they’d been under since the afternoon light of the previous day.

  She was famished, but there was no need to hunt up food, since someone had left an ample amount of it on a covered tray just inside the wagon’s door. She wondered if it had been Charlie. The smell of freshly baked bread and coffee was likely what had woken her. That or Ratqueen flickering her tongue against her ear, telegraphing hunger, since the snakes obtained their primary sustenance from her eating.

  As Medusa began to slither out of the bed, John’s arm slid back around her, a place it had rarely left in the past dozen hours. He buried his face into her neck and nipped her, sending a pleasurable reaction sliding through her vitals. “Can’t leave.”

  “There’s food.”

  He lifted his arm immediately, making her giggle as she squirmed free and retrieved the tray. Propping himself on an elbow, he was a pleasurable sight with his broad chest and tousled hair, the sheet low on his hips. It brought back a vivid memory of him taking her from behind on the bed, or the look in his eyes as Charlie had massaged her.

  She shivered. They hadn’t been asleep all those hours. A few hours before dawn, he’d woken to take her again, easing her to her back and pushing into her willing body. As her arms twined around him, he brought them to a sweet, spiraling conclusion before dropping back into dreams.

  “You keep looking at me like that, we’ll barricade ourselves in this wagon,” he said.

  She wouldn’t mind that, but she was eager to explore. Despite the nice spark of lust in his gaze, she suspected he wouldn’t mind getting out of the wagon too. He’d managed well enough last night, but he couldn’t completely stretch out on the bed without hitting the dividing wall between the sleeping area and the kitchenette sink.

  She discovered a new world of food and drink while she ate. John Pierce introduced her to coffee, showing her how to use sugar and milk to mitigate the taste she found too bitter, though she liked the smell of the beverage. There were tiny powdered round cakes he called mini-donuts, fresh fruit, scrambled chicken eggs, and strips of salty meat called bacon. After having the company of her island animals for so long, she didn’t care much for eating meat, but the other food was good. Her snakes and John had no compunction about such things, attacking the bacon whole-heartedly. She was amused to see John sharing pieces with Earthson. The snake was particularly fond of him, resting on his bare knee.

  Entering and exploring the closet, she retrieved clothes for both of them. John wanted a pair of long pants he called jeans and a blue T-shirt printed with a white dragon. He explained screen printing to her before she returned to the closet and decided on a pair of jeans for herself and a short-sleeved shirt with the Circus logo on it, similar to what was scrolled on their accommodations. He called it a baby doll tee and approved. She was delighted to see whoever had left the wardrobe had been aware of her wings, for the shirt had a pair of slits in the back for that purpose.

  There were other garments in there, too, and he crowded into the small space to help her identify them.

  “Panties and bra,” John supplied. “Undergarments. The bra is a different version of the strophion.”

  She’d worn the twisted rope strophion above and below her breasts over her tunic at the temple to provide support to her small curves, but this idea was new and intriguing. She figured it out easily enough, though John helped her hook it. After she stepped into the panties and slid them up over her backside, she smoothed them and twisted around, trying to see herself.

  “Snake-girl.” He was chuckling. He drew her toward their small bathroom and pointed to a mirror. “There you are.”

  She considered herself from all angles, pleased with the results. When she turned from the mirror, she saw John watching her with a peculiar look on his face. “What?” She looked down at herself quickly. “Have I put them on incorrectly?”

  “Not at all.” He stooped to avoid hitting his head on the top of the bathroom door, and then bent down farther to kiss her, bringing her up against his body. He hadn’t yet dressed, mostly. He had undergarments as well, a pair of very clingy shorts that did nothing to conceal the size of his genitals, pressed temptingly against her lower abdomen. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you look at yourself in a mirror.”

  “There were no mirrors on the island.”

  “No, but even when standing beside a reflective surface, like the waterfall pool, you tended to not look at yourself.”

  She was surprised he had noticed. But then, he noticed so much about her. Like now. He slid his arms around her. “You okay?”

  Words caught in her suddenly thick throat. “You make me feel…beautiful. I feel beautiful.”

  He put his lips on the crown of her head and looked with her into the mirror. She’d pleased him, she could tell, but his arms tightened up
on her, responding to her uncertain emotions.

  “I may have helped you open your eyes to it,” he said. “But you’ve always been beautiful. Look at yourself. The most magnificent woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Those last few moments on the island…I knew you could fight, but holy God, girl. You’re tough as nails. You were a sight to see.”

  “You were very impressive yourself.” The compliments were flustering her, so she nudged him with an elbow. “You should get dressed so we can go see everything.”

  An odd shadow crossed his eyes, but it was gone in a blink as he gave her a casual smile. “I’ll be happy to do that, but I want you to know…you’ll be free to come and go around here without me. You’re safe at the Circus, inside the portal.”

  “Oh. Well, yes, I guess I will when…” She didn’t want to seem helpless, but as always, he seemed to pick up on her thoughts.

  “When you’re familiar with the environment.” He touched her chin, making her look up at him. “That’s smart thinking, Medusa. I’m saying it as much to remind me as to tell you. I want to give you the room to explore things on your own. Your world’s had to be very controlled, even on the island. It’s been awhile since you’ve been able to stroll through a marketplace or go to places the rest of us take for granted.”

  “I did not have that before,” she admitted. “Women in my society are not like Lady Yvette and Clara. I was born in the noble class. Women stayed at home. Slaves went out and did the shopping. If I went out, I was escorted by a male relative. As a priestess, I saw more of the world going to events to sing or lead rituals with my sisters than I ever did in my father’s home. When I heard stories of the Spartan women, how much more freedom they were given, sometimes I wondered, and dreamed about living that kind of life.”

  She paused, thinking of John Pierce’s compliments of her fighting skills, and the independent life she’d lived on the island. Perhaps she had lived that kind of life. “I think Yvette would have liked the Spartan women,” she added.

  “Since I don’t know how old she is, she could have been one of them,” John said. Then he sobered. “If the spell was reversed, would you want to go back to the life you had as a priestess? Or as your father’s daughter?”

  “I was little more than a child when the head priestess accepted me as an acolyte. I found far more of a family at the temple than at the one in which I was born.” She pressed her lips together, shifting her gaze back to the mirror. “As far as returning to the temple, I do not know. I don’t think it is an option any longer, regardless. But it is always nice to have the choice to go back home.”

  She didn’t want to think about that. The one option he hadn’t stated, returning to her island, was more home to her than any other place. Yet now she could not imagine being there without him, so perhaps it was possible to make a home wherever they could be together. Would he think her fanciful for that?

  He’d said he considered her his, but he had not asked her to be his wife. Each time issues arose related to their being together, she sensed a reserve from him.

  She had not yet made it clear she wanted only him. Was that it? She’d been about to tell him, before they’d had to flee the island. But now, there was a whole new world for her to explore, people she could talk to, whose eyes she could meet without fear, and the words stayed in her heart.

  How could she explain to him it wasn’t because he wasn’t her choice, but because having the freedom, the time to have choices, was so new to her? Her opinion on a husband would not have been consulted in Greece. Her father would have made the decision.

  “John Pierce…”

  “Let’s save the heavy questions for another day.” He didn’t let her go there, his expression hooded but voice firm enough to dissuade her from it. Now he distracted her by stripping off the clingy underwear and wrapping a towel around himself. The quarters in here were so very close, he brushed against her at many pleasing angles as he managed the switch. With merely a shift of her body or lift of her hand, she was able to trail fingertips along his hip, the strong line of his back. The Medusa tattoo.

  When he turned to face her, his broad chest was right before her eyes. She’d left her hand on his back so as he turned, it naturally settled against the rough curling hair over his pectoral, tempting another stroke. He was a large man, but inside this small space, it was enhanced. He made her feel so female, and her worrisome thoughts were encompassed by a cushion of other wants and needs.

  His eyes rested on her face, and he clasped a hand over her hip. He put the other hand on her shoulder, his thumb sliding beneath the strap of the bra, an intriguingly intimate gesture she felt tingle all the way to her nipple. In the small area, they were almost pressed against one another, which only heightened her awareness of the sliver of space left between them.

  “There’s an outside shower built up against the wagon,” he said, a huskiness to his voice. “Want to join me before we take off? I need to make myself presentable as the plus-one of the hottest woman here.”

  Her brow furrowed. “It is warm in here, but not overly so.”

  He grinned. “Hot means a desirable woman, because she has sizzle, like fire. Fire’s brilliant, mesmerizing and burns at the touch, but the heat of it keeps us close to it anyway, right?”

  As she flushed like Clara, he cupped his palms over her warm cheeks. “See? Already getting hotter. ‘Plus-one’ means the guy lucky enough to be with you. C’mon.”

  As he drew her to the door, he wrapped a towel around her, fondling her hair and neck and collecting some of the powdered sugar from the corner of her mouth by licking it off. As she pressed against him just as eagerly, she wondered at how the need between them didn’t seem to abate. They’d only recently done…what they obviously both wanted to do again.

  He groaned against her mouth, his arms banding her against his full length as he lifted her off her feet. “Christ, I’m being an animal,” he grumbled. “We better get out of this trailer.”

  “Should I take off these undergarments, as you did?”

  “Once you get to the shower. You take them off here, we’re not getting any farther for the next hour.”

  She giggled again when he shoved open the door to the wagon with his foot and carried her down the steps. He set her on the grass and pointed. “Look.”

  In the bright sunlight, she saw the Circus was camped next to a lake, the water so clear that it reflected the mountains behind it. Clusters of trees with large canopies shaded the various tents and transport vehicles. She heard the piercing cry of a bird and saw a hawk gliding over. The warning cries of smaller birds in the trees became chirping song as the hawk went on his way. A trio of dogs ran by, one of them playing keep away from the others with a stick.

  An inquisitive mrr drew her attention to the top of their wagon. “Oh.”

  A pair of cats were curled there sunning, though at their appearance one got up, bowing his back in a strenuous stretch. He hopped down to wind around her legs. When she bent to pet the feline, John caught her arm. “Let me.”

  He nodded meaningfully to her snakes. She realized Earthson and Treebark had both caught the cat’s eye, their movements a tempting target for a feline’s predatory instincts. The snakes were ratcheting up their own aggressive posturing, Treebark hissing.

  “We might need Yvette’s magical help convincing the cats around here not to see your snakes as tempting toys. Avoiding injury on either side,” John advised.

  “Yes.” She soothed her snakes, convincing Treebark not to execute a venomous strike as John petted the cat and shooed him away. Drawing Medusa around the side of the wagon, he opened the door of the roomy stall that had been built alongside it. She saw a silver spigot and a moment later her towel was tugged away and she was drawn in for her first shower. She found both the concept and company enchanting, as well as the experience of having every crevice of her body cleaned by John’s clever fingers.

  Though she was eager to explore her surroundings, when
he lifted her up against the wall of the stall and took her again, she didn’t object. She abandoned herself to his demands and returned the favor in full measure.

  It was a glorious way to start the day.

  Much of what she and John saw as they wandered the grounds was practice for the upcoming “gig,” as Gundar had called it. Clowns juggled and executed comically clumsy maneuvers with a variety of props. Acrobats performed astounding stunts with bodies as flexible as her snakes. The trapeze artists made her heart leap in her throat as they worked on new routines, and she was glad to see there was a net stretched beneath them.

  She saw ongoing repairs to equipment and new props being built. John paid keen attention to those activities, but apparently the word had been passed about Charlie’s mandate. When he offered to help, he was waved away and told to come back tomorrow.

  “We’ll have plenty to do then,” Gundar told him. The dwarf was covered with sweat, his muscles gleaming. They had a working smithy, and he seemed to be in charge of it, currently hammering and shaping a metal shield. She noticed a lineup of swords cooling and, at his encouraging gesture, she picked up one that interested her.

  “We sell craft goods as well as perform,” he explained. Opening a case, he showed her a row of finished daggers. The intricate hilts were decorated with crystals. “You’ll want to check out Charlie’s goods too. She makes dresses, skirts, scarves, all the things that enchant the ladies. Clara does jewelry and beadwork. I and two of my fellows also do armor, because we like to hit the Cosplay scene on occasion. The Circus takes one month off every three, to keep us fresh and give us lives away from it. Those of us who can move around in the modern world, that is. Those who can’t enjoy the respite in places like this.”