Touch

by Rose Wulf

  Vaughn pulled back then, his breath warm as it ghosted over her face, and teased, “Was that too much?”

  Angela grinned and leaned forward to catch his lips again. “No. Not at all.” She framed his face with her hands, letting her fingers slip into his surprisingly soft hair as her tongue invaded his mouth. He rumbled against her and held her tighter, pulling her practically across his lap.

  “Angie,” he finally groaned when the kiss broke. He was breathing heavily, but the playful light had faded from his eyes. “Wait. I need to tell you something.”

  Something cold twisted uncomfortably in her gut and Angela dropped her index finger over his lips. Despite what she’d only just been thinking, she really had no desire to have a serious and important conversation. “Shh,” she whispered. “If it’s all right, tonight, I’d rather not talk.”

  His eyes darkened with familiar desire and he caught her wrist gently in his hand. “Okay,” he replied after pressing a chaste kiss to her finger. “We can talk later.”

  She was quickly swept up in the heat of another searing kiss and she barely registered her own moan of pleasure when he flattened his palm over her spine and pressed her wholly against him. The airbed they’d blown up in her living room shifted and rustled as Vaughn rolled them over, pinning her beneath him without breaking the kiss. Her hands grew restless and released his hair in favor of roaming over his shirt and tugging awkwardly until she’d found a way to touch him directly. She slid her fingers over his abs and Vaughn groaned into the kiss before breaking it altogether in favor of sitting back and ripping both of their shirts over their heads. First hers—and her bra—then his, almost all before she could even process what he was doing.

  But that was fine with her.

  She trailed her fingers along the ridges of his muscles and breathed, “You know what? I don’t even want to think tonight. Will you help me with that?”

  “It would be my pleasure,” he replied, his voice thick and rumbly and reaching straight to her core.

  She grinned up at him and hooked her fingers over the waistband of his pants. “Then get with the distraction already,” she teased with a faint tug.

  The rest of their clothes went flying and Angela’s thoughts scattered as Vaughn’s lips blazed a trail down her body. Along her throat, over her collarbone, lingering to tease her breasts, then lower still. He licked and kissed and she gasped aloud when his tongue finally touched her aching center. Lips, tongue, and fingers explored and ravaged her in all the best ways. Apparently, he’d taken her literally, because the only coherent thought she could form was highly appreciative.

  She was breathless and happy when he finally climbed his way back up her body. So much so she couldn’t even manage to find her voice, so she offered him a sultry smile and reached for him. He clearly got the message because his lips settled over hers and his hands returned to her skin. Stroking, teasing, and branding her soul.

  It wasn’t long at all before she was squirming restlessly beneath him once more.

  He dragged his kisses over her jaw and back to her throat, licking and nipping, and by the time she’d hooked her leg over his hip, he was buried inside her. She gasped and arched. He growled and pushed a little deeper. Then his lips were over hers again and he picked up a fast, hot rhythm that had her moaning from the back of her throat. He caught one of her breasts in his hand and sucked her tongue into his mouth, driving her mad with pleasure. She felt like she was flying and she still wanted—needed—to fly higher.

  Vaughn either shared her desperation or sensed it, because he released her breast, peeled her hands from his torso, and threaded his fingers with hers as he pressed their hands to the pillow above her head. He retreated from the kiss with a final nibble on her lip and her eyes opened at some silent, undefinable command. She found him watching her, his stare intense and hot and tender all at the same time. It was almost overwhelming, him looking at her like that while his thick cock continued to thrust into her core.

  She locked her ankles behind his back, dug her nails into his hands, and moaned long and loud when he surged in a little harder, a little deeper. If she’d had the breath, she might have called his name, but with one more snap of his hips, Angela’s world exploded in sparkling white and she could no longer worry about anything.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You are amazing,” Angela declared as she accepted the steaming mug of coffee. Vaughn smirked at her as he lifted his own drink to his lips. “And perverted.” She added a deliberately dramatic eye roll for effect then blew lightly on her coffee while Vaughn’s chuckle filled the short distance between them.

  I need to tell him today.

  It was a decision she’d made the night before. She knew her answer, after all, and he deserved to know it, too. She’d pretty much exhausted any reasonable excuses for putting it off and the longer she continued to stall, the harder it would be on him. That was the last thing she wanted. Taking a careful sip of her coffee, Angela pulled in a deep breath. You’re overthinking. Just say it. But she couldn’t just blurt it, so she was going to have to lead into it somehow. Right?

  “Angie,” Vaughn said, calling her attention. There was a seriousness in his tone that silenced her mental confusion and she noticed he was scowling at his coffee mug. Before she could ask what was on his mind, however, he released a breath and looked up. “There’s something I really need to tell you.”

  Her stomach rolled at the tightness in his expression. He was hesitating. That was unlike him. What could possibly be so big he would be hesitant to tell her? Well, you idiot, you never did respond to his confession. Yeah, she supposed that could change anybody’s confidence level. Shifting and resting her mug on the counter, Angela asked, “What is it?”

  He gulped the rest of his coffee and Angela cringed. He’d probably just scalded the whole inside of his throat.

  “I know why the lightning doesn’t hurt me like it should,” he said evenly as he set his mug down in the sink. He held her gaze, a determined but otherwise unreadable light in his eyes. “I told my parents about it and they … explained.”

  Angela frowned. “They knew?” She’d honestly come to the conclusion that it was just some unexplainable, incredibly fortunate fluke. That was really the only thing that made any sense to her.

  Vaughn inclined his head and briefly looked away again. Angela’s gut churned as she realized the hard part was about to follow. Whatever had made him hesitate, whatever detail was holding him back, it was about to come out. And the more obvious his stalling became, the tighter the knot in her stomach twisted. Just how bad is it?

  “Apparently,” he said, dragging his stare back to hers, “Mom’s side of the family … used to be elementals. Weather-elementals.”

  Angela sucked in a breath and straightened as shock washed over her.

  Weather-elementals? Vaughn was descended from the enemy? That’s impossible!

  “It’s a lie,” Angela heard herself whisper, unable to meet his gaze. “It has to be a lie.”

  Vaughn sighed again, aggravation heavy in the sound, and grumbled, “Trust me, I wish it were. But it’s the truth.”

  Her palm splayed on the counter as the world tilted around her for a second. That would explain everything, some nasty voice whispered in her ear. No— He couldn’t be one of them. This couldn’t be happening to her all over again.

  “I know it’s crappy,” Vaughn continued after a prolonged second, “but—”

  “How long,” she interrupted, squeezing her eyes shut. “How long have you known?”

  The silence that stretched between them lasted far too long. This clearly wasn’t something he’d learned just the day before.

  Voice quieter than it had been a moment ago, Vaughn replied, “Since Saturday night.”

  Saturday…? Hadn’t Vaughn first told her he loved her on Sunday? The Sunday she got her house, the Sunday they all had dinner together. Just two days before Daniel’s murder. That was a full week. He’d known for an
entire week but he hadn’t said a word. Why? Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she dragged in a ragged breath. “Why?” she repeated aloud. She swallowed and clarified, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “Because … I wanted more time with you.”

  Angela’s eyes snapped open and she spun around to face him, throwing her barely balancing world once again off-kilter. “More … time?” she repeated slowly, a lump rapidly forming in her throat. “What are you saying?” Oh, God! He’d learned the truth about his heritage and decided he was on the wrong side, hadn’t he? Was he going to betray her? Or was he just going to walk away and wash his hands of her? Was that where this was headed? She didn’t think she could handle that. She knew she couldn’t handle that. Eric’s and Geoff’s betrayals had been bad enough. If Vaughn turned on her, too, she didn’t know what she’d do. “Are you … breaking up with me?” Her voice was humiliatingly weak, but there was no use fighting it.

  Vaughn frowned and held her widened gaze for another long second. “Angela, don’t you realize what I just said? I am something that you hate.”

  Angela reared back, another sharp breath lodging in her throat, as she processed his response. He thought she would hate him? Tears finally spilling over, Angela snapped, “You’re an idiot, Vaughn.” She spun and ran from the kitchen, not wanting him to see her cry this time. That probably wasn’t how she should leave the conversation, but she needed to catch her breath. She needed to figure out her honest reaction. She needed to calm down so she wouldn’t wind up shouting her I love you in his face like an insult. That jerk.

  She stopped running when her toes slid against the dewy blades of grass covering her front lawn. She hadn’t even realized she’d gone running outside.

  Angela sniffled and lifted her gaze to the still-foggy morning sky. It was amazing how fast a person’s mood could change. Waking up that morning with Vaughn’s arms around her and her head pillowed on his strong shoulder, she’d felt so at peace. It had seemed like the world was right and she could really breathe, for the first time in a long time. That was certainly the best mood she’d woken up in in a while. Now the same man who’d made her so happy not even an hour ago had gone and frustrated her to the point of tears. Yet still, all she really wanted was to crawl into that bed, go back to that moment, and ignore the rest of the world.

  “Angela,” Vaughn called carefully from behind her, the grass crunching almost soundlessly beneath his bare feet. “I know you’re upset. I was upset, too, when I heard, but—”

  “No,” Angela interrupted, turning to level as fierce a stare on him as she could manage given the blurred state of her vision. “What I’m upset about isn’t what you are. That’s why you’re an idiot. You don’t get it.”

  Vaughn frowned and his jaw ticked as he clearly struggled with the best way to respond. “What don’t I get, then?”

  Angela opened her mouth to answer him, not entirely sure what was really about to roll off her tongue, but someone beat her to it.

  “What the hell’s this?” Geoff’s indignant voice called, shattering the moment as he strode up the driveway like he belonged there. “What the fuck are you doin’ at my girlfriend’s new place this early in the morning, Prescott?”

  Both Angela and Vaughn turned their attention to the unwelcome intruder and Angela had no trouble manifesting her glare this time.

  “Funny,” Vaughn said, impatience edging into his voice. “I could ask you the same question.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Angela kept her glare on Geoff and demanded, “For the last time, I’m not your girlfriend anymore. So what are you doing here, Geoff?”

  Geoff sighed as if he were an inconvenienced god deigning to converse with insects. Spreading his arms out, Geoff replied, “Angie, baby, I think this whole argument’s gotten kinda old, don’t you? Let’s you an’ me work it out. You know that rich punk’s no good for you.”

  “That’s not really your concern,” Vaughn returned shortly.

  “I don’t know how I can get any clearer,” Angela said, again ignoring Vaughn’s comment. “We’re over, Geoff. As in, I want you out of my life. You need to move on because you’re wasting your time with me. The sight of you disgusts me. Do you understand?”

  Geoff narrowed his eyes at her, arms again at his sides. “Yeah,” he replied. “I understand.” He started forward swiftly, wasting no time closing the distance between them. “But don’t worry, babe, I’ll save you from that chump. He doesn’t scare me.”

  “What?” Angela demanded, too shocked at the oddity of his response to properly register his movement until it was too late. Once again, Geoff had latched his hand around her elbow like he thought she was a doll to be paraded around.

  “Get your hand off her,” Vaughn said, a warning growl in his voice.

  Turning a smug expression over to Vaughn, Geoff returned, “She’s not your plaything, Prescott.”

  “You asshole,” Angela snapped, attempting to twist and jerk her arm free of his grasp. His hand tightened in his effort to keep hold of her, making her flail like an idiot.

  Then Geoff released her so violently and unexpectedly that Angela found herself stumbling backward, the unmistakable sound of a hard punch echoing up toward the sky.

  “No one manhandles her,” Vaughn said with an angry rumble in his voice as his arm returned to his side, fist still clenched. “Least of all some piece of trash like you.”

  And he thinks I could hate him. He really was an idiot. “Vaughn,” Angela said, reaching out and covering his bicep with one hand. “That’s enough. Let’s go inside. I’ll call Dean if he doesn’t leave.” Mostly because the cops liked Dean and would be more inclined to let him off with a warning if Geoff needed some persuading. Vaughn seemed to recognize her logic because he released a breath and turned his back on her moronic ex-boyfriend.

  They were nearly to the entryway, Angela walking ahead, when some kind of explosion shook the air. Angela jumped, her heart leaping to her throat as she instinctively ducked. Her ears were ringing when she registered the odd choking sound Vaughn was making.

  Fear clenched her heart and Angela turned to see what had happened. She nearly threw up at the sight of the blood. Vaughn’s blood, running steadily down his side and soaking his lightweight t-shirt. The blood was concentrated on his left side, below his heart. But there was a lot of it, and more continued to rush free.

  “Vaughn,” Angela whispered, shocked into a numb sort of confusion. She reached out at the same time as his eyes rolled up in his head and he toppled forward. “Vaughn!”

  “Stupid son of a bitch,” Geoff said from somewhere beyond Angela’s vantage point.

  She reached with shaking hands toward the fresh blood covering Vaughn’s side as she dared to lift her gaze to Geoff. He held a pistol at his side. “You shot him,” Angela gasped, her voice shaking almost as badly as the rest of her. Vaughn’s been shot… She’d hate herself forever if the last words she’d really spoken to him had been some childish insult. I have to heal him. And if that meant revealing herself in front of Geoff, then so be it. She didn’t give a damn.

  “What d’you think you’re doing, Angie?” Geoff asked as he strode up to them.

  She was in the process of trying to tear off the side of Vaughn’s shirt, searching for the wound itself. The tighter she could focus her power, the faster she could heal him. She barely even heard the question and she put even less energy into responding.

  There it is. And there was another round of bile trying valiantly to climb out of her throat. But she swallowed it down, took a deep breath, placed her hands over the wound, and screamed a little when Geoff grabbed her upper arm and jerked her backward.

  “I asked you a question, dammit!” Geoff bellowed.

  “Let go of me!” Angela struggled against his hold and the awkward angle.

  “Get to your feet.” Geoff yanked sharply to emphasize his instruction.

  “Go to hell,” she snapped, throwing a glare up at hi
m for good measure.

  Geoff arched a brow at her and pointed the gun at Vaughn’s unconscious head. “Get to your feet,” he repeated slowly. He flexed his finger around the trigger. “Or I ruin his pretty little face.”

  Eyes wide, Angela ceased her struggling and fought against another wave of tears. “Okay,” she whispered. She shifted her weight awkwardly, still having to contend with his grip, but managed to find her feet. “Just, please … let me call an ambulance for him.”

  “You better hope someone else already did that,” he replied curtly. He released her arm then and gestured toward the vehicle he’d parked at the curb. “Let’s go, Angie.”

  Angela swallowed heavily as Geoff turned his back to her. The gun was still in his hand, but it was pointed at the grass now. And there was no way in hell she was going anywhere with him. She just needed to figure out a way to get that damned gun out of the equation. Her gaze landed back on Vaughn—who was still bleeding—and more tears blurred her vision. She looked away, trying to focus, and found herself staring at the hide-a-key Hilary had given her as a house warming present. It was plastic, not actual rock, but it was fairly sturdy plastic in an effort to give it enough weight to hopefully throw off any burglars. Or, in this case, to protect her from a gun-toting lunatic.

  She moved before she could think better of it, scooping the heavy-enough object into her hands and sprinting toward Geoff as he began to turn back around. “You bastard!” she cried as she threw all of her strength into the hide-a-key.

  Geoff shouted something, but Angela missed it entirely as her weapon collided with his head. She’d been hoping to hit his temple, but apparently, it didn’t matter. In combination with the punch to the head he’d taken earlier, her attack was enough to throw him off balance. The gun went skidding down the driveway and Geoff landed hard on his back on the grass. He was groaning, and semi-conscious, but it was enough.