by Rose Wulf
Angela frowned. “You are not.” She reached out thoughtlessly and danced the tips of her fingers over his burn. “You can’t tell me this doesn’t hurt.”
Vaughn was quiet for a second, something flashing in his eyes before he finally replied, “It’s a little tender, yes, but it’s nothing I can’t walk off.”
“Then you’ll feel even better after a good night’s rest,” Angela said firmly. “I rented this room for the night. It’s got a nice comfy bed, so you’re going to use it.”
Vaughn arched a brow, caught her retreating wrist, and slid his fingers up until he had her hand in his. “And where’re you planning on sleeping?”
Angela blinked, aware her cheeks were reddening by the second. Where was she going to sleep? She hadn’t given her own rest a single thought in her desperation to take care of him. “The chair,” she blurted as soon as she remembered that there was, in fact, a simple desk chair in the corner of the room. “I’ll take the chair.”
Pressing chaste, deliberate kisses to the tips of her fingers, Vaughn murmured, “Like hell.”
“Vaughn,” Angela said. He was probably about to insist on being macho and taking the chair himself. And she wasn’t going to stand for it.
Only he cut her off with a scorching look, lowered her tingling hand, and said, “I know how to share, Angie.”
Angela swallowed heavily. Share the bed… It made the most logical sense. It was a queen-sized mattress, there was plenty of room. And she knew how to share, too. But could she share with Vaughn was the question. She wanted to share a lot with him, bed included, but not really in any kind of restful way. It seemed dangerous to even consider. Far too dangerous. “Maybe I don’t,” she muttered before she could think better of it.
Vaughn chuckled, tugged on her wrist, and she toppled onto him. She hadn’t been expecting that. He caught her by the shoulders, slid his hands up to frame her jaw, and leaned in until his nose brushed hers. “Yes, you do.” His voice was thicker than usual. Quiet and rumbling. It danced deliciously down her spine and her body’s response was instantaneous. “You’re not scared, are you?”
“What if I am?” Angela asked breathlessly, her mouth dry with anticipation. He was so close, yet still out of reach. All she wanted was to taste him.
Eyes darkening in a dangerously exciting way, Vaughn replied, “Then let go, Angie. You can trust me.”
Her hands found his skin again and she licked her lips. “I do trust you,” she assured him. “I just—”
He cut her off with a kiss, pressing his lips to hers firmly and holding her there for a long second before letting his tongue slip back into her mouth. When he was done pulling the breath from her lungs, he retreated enough to whisper, “You’re overthinking, angel.”
Angela swallowed again, her heart fluttering in her chest as heat pooled low in her belly. He was right. She knew it, just as certainly as she knew she wanted to take that step. She ached in her desperation for him. But… “Are you … sure?” she asked hesitantly. “How do you feel, I mean?”
He offered her a smile and threaded his fingers into her hair, trailing his lips over her jaw before replying, “Why don’t you let me show you?”
She hummed her approval, her arms already curling around his shoulders, and her lips crashed over his once more. If she saw signs that he was exaggerating his health, she’d pull back, but until then, he was offering something she simply couldn’t refuse. If the way he kissed was any indication, she would be blissfully sore come morning. First, though, she had to get him out of those jeans.
Vaughn rumbled against her, his chuckle vibrating up his chest and through his lips into hers. He dragged a hand down her spine, making her gasp, and when she popped the button of his jeans free, he teased, “At least let me grab the condoms from my wallet.”
Angela shifted, letting her tongue slip out and trail along his jaw, tasting him. “I’m on the pill,” she admitted.
“Screw the condoms, then.” Vaughn adjusted his grip until her shirt was no longer attached to her body. His hands found her skin a beat later and she gasped, arching into him, her own hands stilling as she absorbed the improved sensations. The best kind of electricity coursed through her, awakening a level of sensitivity she hadn’t known she was capable of.
She moaned softly when his hands began wandering and she pressed her lips to whatever patch of taut, masculine skin was closest. She teased him with her lips and tongue and teeth, relishing in his rumbling growls. Sometime during her assault on his neck and shoulders, he released the clasp on her bra and flipped them both over. Her head hit a pillow, his hand found one of her breasts, and she nearly cried out as he latched his lips to her throat. His back rippled with flexing muscle, burning beneath her palms, as her own hands roamed restlessly.
She wanted to take it slow and enjoy all the smallest, lingering kisses. She wanted to skip all the lead-in and get straight to the main event. She wanted everything at once.
He kissed his way down her throat, licking and sucking and grazing her skin with his teeth until he caught her other breast with his lips. He settled there, his tongue playing with her nipple, while his hands slid over her abdomen. Adding to the delicious torture as he poured a little gasoline onto the fire in her blood. She was groaning and clinging to him by the time he pulled back, her breast still tingling from his assault. But he didn’t give her time to recover before bowing his head and continuing to blaze a trail down her body. His hands found the waistband of her jeans and trailed around from the button to her hips and back again, teasing.
The button came loose a moment later, and they moved together to free her from the confines of the denim. Her panties disappeared next and her breath hitched in her throat when he stilled above her, blatantly taking his time absorbing the sight of her. She found herself holding her breath as if waiting for his approval. Then he grinned down at her, a look of pure desire darkening his blue eyes.
He returned his hands to her skin, trailing slowly, lingering, and he pressed his lips to her navel. Her mouth went dry again as his kisses lowered. Her body tingled in anticipation. And then his lips were teasing her center and Angela gasped, instinctively seeking purchase in his skin. She dug her nails into his arms as he tasted her, slowly, and her body screamed at her, begging for more. Begging for release.
Vaughn took his time, driving her crazy with every flick of his tongue. She was burning and moaning by the time he inserted first one finger—and then another—into her core. Her back arched and he withdrew his fingers, pushed them in again, and this time, he followed up by catching her clit with his tongue. Angela cried out, her hips bucking of their own accord as stars exploded behind her eyes.
She was still gasping for breath when she realized he was kissing his way back up her body a minute or three later.
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he teased when he reached her throat, his breath washing over her skin and sending another rush of excitement into her blood. She didn’t know how he did it, but that ache was already building again.
“Get up here already,” she demanded breathlessly, tugging lightly on his hair for emphasis. It occurred to her then, as his rumbling chuckle vibrated her senses, that there was still a key complication, so she dragged her nails down his sides in search of his jeans. Only they were already gone, and all she found was more skin waiting to be explored.
Vaughn’s chuckle grew louder for a second and he nipped at her ear before murmuring, “Weren’t you paying attention?”
Looping her arms around his torso, Angela replied, “I was a little distracted, thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome.” He swooped in and captured her lips in another hot, crushing kiss. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, stroking and swirling, and Angela moaned against him.
She was so lost in the kiss, she nearly missed the cue of him shifting above her, settling properly into position between her legs as his back flexed beneath her palms. Her core pulsed at the first tease of his entrance and
then he sank into her. He filled her completely, just slowly enough to tantalize and torture her. The kiss broke as they both sucked in ragged gasps of air.
Angela lifted one hand to tangle it in his hair again as she rolled her hips forward, and just like that, he kicked into motion. He attacked her with wet kisses as he thrust into her over and over again. She gasped and moaned beneath him, her legs lifting and wrapping around his hips, desperate to take him deeper. He growled something against her skin, nipped at the tenderized flesh, and found her lips again as he shoved an arm around her waist to hold her tighter.
She was racing toward the precipice at super-speed, her body burning and singing all at once each time he buried his cock inside her. Judging from his kiss and the increasing power behind his movements, Angela figured he was probably just as close to the edge. She dug her nails into his skin, arching to take him even deeper, and he made another deep, guttural sound of approval as he surged into her one more time.
The world exploded around her as their hips reconnected and she cried out, her vision going white as a glorious fire consumed her. She clung tighter to him, the sound of his own choked outcry ringing in her ears.
****
Vaughn was still arguably exhausted when he blinked his eyes open sometime later. He could tell it was daylight outside, thanks to the thin, worn-out curtains over the motel window, but he had no idea what time it actually was. Someone else in the world was awake, though, because Angela’s phone was ringing. He was fairly sure that was what had roused him from the deep, restful sleep he’d been lost in moments earlier.
The weight draped across his chest shifted and released a soft, feminine moan as a hand curled into his abdomen. The ringing phone was waking her up, too, of course. “Mm,” Angela hummed, still more asleep than awake. “What time is it?”
“Dunno,” Vaughn replied honestly as her ringtone finally cut off. “Morning, I assume,” he added with another squinted glance toward the window.
“Oh, God,” Angela groaned, sounding significantly more awake already. She lifted her head a couple of inches from his chest, her beautifully mussed hair still obscuring most of her face from his vision, then dropped her forehead back down. “That was my mom’s ringtone!”
Vaughn cringed, sighed, and gave her a squeeze with the arm he’d had locked around her waist. “I’ll go grab your phone,” he offered reluctantly. He really had no desire to leave the warmth of the bed they were sharing. He was still tired and sinfully comfortable. But he understood that, especially given current circumstances, it would be bad if Angela disappeared for any length of time. Like overnight without warning.
“No,” Angela groaned again, shifting and this time pushing herself up enough to find his gaze with hers. She managed a sleepy, equally reluctant smile. “I’ll grab it. How are you feeling?” It was clear, from the momentary pause, the question had fallen from her lips before she’d really thought about it. And he was so tempted to tease her in response, but he figured he would get plenty of opportunities for that soon enough.
“Good,” he promised, letting a hand run lightly over her arm. He frowned as Angela’s phone went off again—this time indicating a voicemail—and tugged her closer. When his lips were brushing over hers, he murmured, “Morning.”
She smiled into his kiss, waiting until they separated before breathing, “Good morning.”
The willpower required to let her slip from his grasp in order to reach her phone at that point sort of scared him. He’d never really imagined he could be quite so comfortable with someone, and he’d certainly never considered himself even remotely “clingy.” But if he got to keep his arms around her, he suspected he could live with changing that.
Angela returned to the bed quickly, climbing back beneath the covers and lifting the sheet to her chest in some misguided search for modesty. As if he hadn’t seen it all up close the night before. She sat sideways to him, though, so all of her back remained exposed to his greedy gaze. He reached out and let his fingers skim over her spine while she listened to her mother’s message, suspecting he knew exactly what it would say.
“Oh, man,” Angela groaned as she pulled the phone from her ear and deleted the message. “I’m in so much trouble.”
Despite himself, Vaughn’s lips twitched. “You really need to get that house.”
Angela turned mockingly narrowed eyes on him. “You think?” Her expression softened and she broke from his gaze. He was sure she was looking for the wound from the night before. “I don’t get it,” she murmured a moment later, confirming his assumption when she shifted and lightly trailed two fingers over the burn. “How is it so much better already?”
Vaughn angled his head to see the portion of skin in question for himself. It was still easily distinguished from the rest of his chest, but it looked like a regular, day-old, burn. The small twinge of discomfort he felt when she touched it wasn’t even worth acknowledging. “I don’t know,” he admitted. And he was a little concerned about what it meant. This was the third time he’d been shot with lightning and hadn’t had near the negative reaction he suspected he should have. And that last one had been bigger. There was a high chance Eric had been testing him, because he was sure Eric had noticed this odd resistance, too. An ordinary person probably wouldn’t have survived that shot. And what does that make me?
“I’m worried, Vaughn,” Angela said softly, dragging him from his thoughts. Her lips were pursed in an expression that matched her words, her gaze still lingering on the burn mark. “What … what does this mean?”
Damned if I know. But he didn’t think his own uncertainty would make her feel any better. Instead, he reached out, tipping her chin up and encouraging her to look elsewhere, as he replied, “Is it too much to hope it just means they’re losing their touch?”
She exhaled a muffled, almost bitter laugh and moved in order to rest her head on his shoulder. “I wish.”
“Angie,” Vaughn murmured as he wrapped his arms around her. He wanted to tell her not to worry about him. He wanted to tell her a lot of things, actually. But this was the wrong time for any of it, and he knew she wouldn’t listen to that particular piece of advice. “Do you have to call your mom back?”
This time, she sighed, nodding against him. “Yes,” she grumbled. “If I’m not home for breakfast, she’ll probably send my brothers after me anyway.”
“That probably wouldn’t be the greatest start to my day,” Vaughn said, fighting a grin. His day would have to take a nightmarish downturn to actually qualify as bad at this rate, but he couldn’t resist the joke. Just because he got along well with her brothers didn’t mean they were going to be thrilled about the change in his and Angela’s relationship. They were still her brothers, after all. He was sure he’d feel the same if he had a sister.
Angela laughed and sat up again, reaching for the phone she’d dropped at her other side. “No, it definitely wouldn’t.” She paused, finger hovering over the screen, and asked, “Hey … would it be awkward if you came to breakfast?”
He studied her, finding her staring back at him with a hesitant, hopeful light in her eyes. It had been his intention to drop her off at her parents’ house before returning to his own. He wanted to see if he could figure out what was going on with him. His family seemed like the logical place to start. Not to mention it was Friday and they both had class to think about. But the moment he saw that look in her eyes, he changed his mind and shook his head. “Not enough to stop me.”
She smiled, tapped the screen, and swung her legs over the side of the bed to start getting ready for the day.
****
“I’ve never heard of that before,” Lillian replied slowly, her brow furrowed with reflection. She glanced to the side, toward her brother, and asked, “Daniel?”
Daniel shook his head, a similar expression on his face. “No, neither have I. The only thing that would make sense, maybe, would be if he were another weather-elemental. Maybe they have some kind of resistance?”
She wanted to take it as good news. For some reason, by some miracle, Vaughn had a higher-than-normal level of resistance to lightning. It made no sense, but it was a good thing all the same. Only that was the problem. It made no sense. Even in their superpowered world there were rules. So there had to be some kind of explanation. And she was rapidly becoming terrified that it would be a bad one. That somehow, sooner or later, this thing that seemed like a gift today would turn into a curse.
“Well,” Daniel said on a defeated sigh, “I don’t know what else it could be.”
“There has to be something,” Angela pushed, returning her attention to the siblings seated across from her. “Maybe there’s another branch of elemental we just don’t know about yet?”
“That’s highly unlikely,” Daniel replied.
“We didn’t know about the weather-controllers until a couple years ago,” Angela reminded pointedly. “It can’t really be that crazy a possibility.” She shrugged, held her hands out, and suggested, “Maybe there’s a branch that’s elementally immune?”
Daniel opened his mouth to respond, probably wanting to deny the possibility, but he hesitated.
Clearly uncertain, Lillian said, “As ridiculous as that suggestion sounds, we should consider it. Angela’s right, it wasn’t long ago that we still thought we were the only kind of elemental.”
Nodding with obvious reluctance, Daniel pushed to his feet and said, “I’ll call Nicholas, then, and see if he feels like going back to the beginning.”
